


The Soccer AU

by Sablewick



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011), The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cutting, Football | Soccer, Homelessness, M/M, Reincarnation, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:57:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sablewick/pseuds/Sablewick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esca wants to run away from the entire world.  Then he meets Marcus and finds that there might be something worth staying for after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In case you missed the tag, there are points in the story (including the very first scene) where Esca harms himself and which might be triggery for some people. If you're not comfortable with reading that, please don't continue.

Esca wiped the blade clean on his shorts, hitched his shirt up to his chest, pressed the knife firmly against the skin just above his hip and paused.  Biting his lower lip, he let his head fall back so he was staring up at the brownish watery stain on the ceiling.  He could feel the cold smooth edge creating an indentation, knew that the simple act of breathing was causing the blade to dig into his stomach, but also knew that it would do him no real harm unless he actually moved the knife.  One short, sharp jerk and he'd bleed.  Not much, if he wanted to see blood he'd use a razor; an edge so thin that you could cut deep and barely feel it.  Knives were for pain.  And they looked cooler.  And people asked less questions when they accidentally found them.  Not that Esca had anyone to find his knives, everyone was gone and there was nobody else coming for him.  Not anymore.  No more foster care, no more social workers, no more government officials pretending they gave a damn.

He was alone in the world.  

He jerked the knife, gasping at the sudden searing pain despite being ready for it.  Blood welled from the cut, but he didn't stop to watch it, he didn't want to see today, just wanted the rush, the relief.  Hands shaking, he tucked the blade back into his duffle and hauled it over his shoulder, gave one quick sweep of the room to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind, then left.    
Hello world, he declared silently as he stepped out into the sun, please forget me.

 

***

  
He was walking down alongside the park, waiting for night to fall so he could duck in and make use of the rotunda for the night when half the school soccer team descended on him, greeting him far too enthusiastically for a group of guys who regularly attempted to humiliate him.

He dodged them warily, but was drawn into their circle by an arm around his shoulder that threatened to become an arm around his neck instead if he made to break away.

"Escaaa," the guy drawled. "My man, you up for a game tonight? We're down three players and we're up against Missindon. Not cool." The guys felt the need to expound upon how very uncool that was.  "We have to win this one or there's no chance of getting to the semis. And no semis means no scouts. And no scouts means no uni. My dad would not be pleased if I told him I wasn't going to uni."

Esca stared stonily at the footpath, wishing he'd headed straight for the bus stop.  He should've just starved for a couple of days and bought his ticket out of town.  Now, whether he played or not, he was going to get a beating.  
A beating from Pete and crew or from the Missindon players, which would be worse?

Elbowing Pete in the ribs, he shook his head and pulled himself loose, intending to leave the rowdy group to their pre-game celebrations and hoping to get away with minimal bruising, but one of the guys grabbed him around the middle and hauled him up and over his shoulder. Esca winced, feeling the cut on his stomach reopen. 

"Let's dump him in the pond, yeah?"  The guys laughed and cheered.  Esca fought the urge to struggle, hearing Pete's protests.  

"Nah, man.  Put him down.  He won't be any good to us if he's all wet and frozen."

Grumbling, the guy twirled around then dropped Esca on the ground.  Laughing when he stumbled and fell against Pete.

Pete laid a steadying hand on his shoulder.  "Come on, Esca. I know none of it matters to you, but it'll be a bit of fun and you can't tell me you'd miss the opportunity to put one over the Missies."

The guys started jeering, proclaiming their hate of their rival team.

Pete hauled him in close while they were distracted, whispering directly into Esca's ear. "If you come play, you can sleep at mine tonight." He nodded at Esca knowingly.  "You're running off. Bit stupid, really. Middle of winter and all that. But all it takes is one game, and my couch is yours for the night."

He thumped Esca on the shoulder. "What do you say, hey? You in?" He grinned.

It wasn't really a question, Esca was going to say yes.

 

***

  
Esca's borrowed shirt was bloody and his borrowed boots were caked with mud.  He could feel the bruises blooming over his ribs and his cheekbone was tender from the knee in the face that one of the Missindon players had dealt out before half time.  It had been a good game though, and the thrill of running circles around his opponents stayed with him all the way to the showers.  

He kicked his cleats against the brick wall outside the locker room before toeing them off and tying the laces together, then hung them on the doorknob so their owner could reclaim them later.  He wanted to grab his duffel and get out of there, but the prospect of being able to sleep inside a house rather than in the park was too good an opportunity to pass up, and it was probably better to shower here rather than at Pete's place.

Retrieving his gear from the end of the room, he scooted past the rest of the team (who were still whooping and cheering a bit) and ducked into the showers.  The stalls were all empty but Esca took the one on the very end anyway.  There were only cement partitions separating the stalls, no doors nor shower curtains, and he didn't want anyone walking past and catching sight of him.  He'd seen people react to his scars before.

He stripped quickly and dumped his stuff on the little bench just beyond the reach of the water.  He didn't have a towel, but he figured one of his shirts would do.  He could maybe convince Pete to let him wash his clothes.  The guy might be feeling generous considering the awesome game they'd just played.

The water heated slowly and he was shivering violently well before it warmed enough to start defrosting his frozen skin.  His injuries stung, particularly his face once he stopped feeling like an ice block, but the hot water was bliss.  He sighed heavily as the water ran through his hair, over his chest and down his legs, washing away the mud and sweat.  It was probably going to be a couple of days before he would have the opportunity to get this clean again.

He rinsed off the block of soap someone had left behind and scrubbed himself down.  Lathering up his hands, he rubbed a bit through his hair as well, knowing it wouldn't do much for it but thinking it was better than nothing.  He took a moment to study the new gash on his stomach, making sure no dirt had gotten into it and that it was going to heal alright, and searched out all the bruises on his chest, both the healing and the newly forming, noting what to avoid for the next couple of days.  He smiled grimly, it was so completely messed up.  If child services saw him right now…  Well, they'd do nothing, given that he was no longer a child, but they'd probably have something to say about it anyway.

He was feeling so relaxed standing under the heat of the water that it wasn't until he turned it off that he realised that something was wrong.  The sound of the spray had been enough to block out the low chatter coming from the locker room, so when it'd quietened down, he hadn't noticed.  Now it was silent except for the slow trickle of water gurgling it's way down the drain.

Extremely aware of the fact that he was naked and feeling the weight of a horrible prank impending, Esca quickly shook himself off, wiping away as much of the water as he could before reaching for the shirt he'd set out to use as a towel.  

He was too slow.  An arm whipped around the corner of the stall, grabbing his gear, snatching it out of reach.  He leaped for his bag, getting a hold of the leg of his jeans and wrenching backwards, but the floor was wet causing his feet to slip, sending him crashing to the floor.

He could hear the laughter echoing through the room as the guy tore off, sneakers squeaking on the tiles, and then the cheering as the team as they all ran out of the locker room and back to the field.

"Thanks for playing Esca!"  Pete's voice echoed off the cement.  "Have a great night!  Hope to never see you again, sucker!"

Esca winced as the lights switched off and he was plunged into darkness.  Then the locker room door was slammed shut and he could hear the padlock being slid into place.  

He swore quietly, letting his head fall back onto the floor as he clutched his jeans to his chest.  He was screwed, so screwed.  So very, very screwed.

He blinked away the burning sensation creeping into his eyes, taking a deep breath and levering himself to his feet.  He turned the shower back on and rinsed himself off, then, holding his jeans carefully so as not to get them any wetter than they already were, he crept out of the shower room and started wandering up and down the lockers hoping someone had left something useful behind.

Finding nothing but a crumpled towel that was already too damp to be serviceable, Esca turned and slammed his foot into side of the locker.  He kicked it a couple more times for good measure, then punched it as well.  He was so stupid, and it always happened.  He'd trust someone just a tiny bit, get his hopes up just a little, and it always turned out wrong.  Nothing ever went right.  He could never even have the smallest thing.  Growling and shivering, he shuffled back over to where he'd dropped his pants wondering if it'd be better to put them on now and get them wet, or wait until he air dried.  He was going to be freezing all night long either way, did it really matter?

A sharp knock on the locker room door made the decision for him though and he struggled to get his feet down his trouser legs before whoever it was decided to open the door.  If they could open the door.  It was probably the grounds keeper or the referee, they'd have keys.  He hitched his pants up and crossed his arms over his chest, ducking behind the nearest row of lockers trying to hide himself as much as possible.  He didn't want to be seen.  People asked too many questions.

"Hello?"  An unfamiliar voice called out hesitantly.  "You ok in there?"

Esca frowned.  Who was this moron?  "The bloody thing locks from the outside, what do you think?"  He yelled back.

He heard the guy laugh.  "Well you're an idiot, then, aren't you.  Hang on, I'll get you out."

Esca snorted crankily as he heard the guy jog away, coming back moments later with a key in hand to fumble with the lock.

The door swung open and the guy peered in, his face poorly lit by the small globe that was attached to the outside of the building.  

Esca didn't recognise him at first, he was wearing a beanie pulled low over his brow and the dim light didn't help either.  But when the guy stepped back expectantly, waiting for Esca to come out, he caught a glimpse of his Missinden jersey.  Mark?  Marcus?  He was pretty sure this was the guy named The Eagle by his team mates.

Esca stayed behind the lockers.

"Well?"  Marcus asked.  "Are you coming out or staying in?"  When Esca didn't answer, Marcus moved back into the doorway, peering into the darkness, trying to figure out where Esca was.

Esca ducked his head around the side of the locker, squinting into the light.

"Ohhhh,"  Marcus said understandingly.  Esca sighed heavily.  This was not cool.  At least he had pants and wasn't entirely naked as Marcus seemed to have assumed.  He made no move to give up his hiding space though.

Marcus laughed a bit, ducking his head as he shrugged his hoody off, stepping into the locker room so he could pass it over.  "Man, you must be freezing.  Put this on.  I've got some spare clothes in my…"  He cut off mid-sentence as Esca reached out to take the hoody, his eyes locked on Esca's arm.

Esca followed his gaze.  Blood, a great long trail of it snaking down his arm.  He snatched his arm back, twisting it around trying to find the injury.  His arm was fine, it was coming from his shoulder?  His neck?  He ran his fingers up the back of his head, gasping when he felt the wet patch on the back of his head.  He swore quietly, disappearing back behind the lockers.  
  
"Whoa, hey man." Marcus ducked back to the doorway, flicking the light on before following Esca around the corner. "What happened?!"  
  
Esca squinted up at him, folding his arms across his chest again, trying to hide himself. Marcus was staring at him, or more specifically, at all his injuries, and his scars, and probably Esca's scrawny, sticking out ribs. The fact that Esca was wearing pants apparently meant that it was perfectly reasonable to ogle at the rest of him. He looked a bit horrified.

Esca glared at him for a moment, then shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "I fell down in the shower."  
  
Marcus snorted and held the hoody out again. Esca took it gingerly, knowing he was going to get blood all over it, but pulled it on anyway. Marcus wouldn't stop looking at him.  
  
"So," Marcus glanced over in the direction of the showers. "Are there dead bodies we should be disposing of?"  
  
"What?" Esca blinked up at him incredulously, folding the edges of his sleeves around his fingers and tucking his hands into his pockets. He could feel the cloth sticking to the blood on his back, but ignored it in favour of snuggling into the fluffy material. It was still warm from Marcus' body, and oh so comfy.  
  
"Ok, maybe not." Marcus muttered. He switched the light off again and led the way out of the building, turning to lock the door behind them. "I just figured, given the obvious superiority you displayed on the field tonight, that if anyone was going to take you down they'd at least be limping away from the fight."  
  
Esca frowned, trying to determine whether or not that was supposed to be a compliment or a dig at his potentially violent nature. He didn't think he'd injured anyone during the game.

Marcus shifted from foot to foot for a moment, then held up the keys like he'd suddenly remembered he had them. "I'm just going to take these back. Wait here."

Esca shivered, staring after him, trying not to think about how bizarre his rescuer was.  
  
Well at least he wasn't trapped in the stupid locker room for the night, that was a bonus.  
  
***  
  
Esca felt a bit silly as they made their way across the soccer field to the car park. He'd started out at a jog, hoping to warm himself up a bit, but now that he'd noticed the injury, his head was throbbing and each step made it pound a whole lot worse, so he'd settled for walking. Or tiptoeing, rather, the ground was so freaking cold that his feet had gone numb. It seemed to be amusing Marcus.  
  
In a matter of hours he'd managed to lose all his gear and damage himself to the point where it would be dangerous to leave it unattended. He didn't really want to think about the consequences of accepting help from this strange friendly person. It would no doubt cause him endless trouble, but he was too cold and miserable at this point to worry about it too much. He really just wanted to sleep.  
  
Marcus wandered along beside him, watching him carefully. Making a few very lame attempts to start up a conversation. Esca pretended not to notice, pulling his hood up and trying to avoid his gaze. He seemed overly concerned for having just met. Although, considering they'd been on opposing soccer teams for most of high school he supposed they'd technically known each other for years, but that still didn't warrant such familiarity.  
  
When they got to the car, Marcus climbed in and started it up, turning the heat on full. Then he hopped back out again and went around to the boot to retrieve the clothes he'd promised. When he came back, Esca had his feet shoved into the vents underneath the dash and his hands pressed against the vent near the door, the warm air billowing up the sleeves of his jumper. Marcus chuckled, tossing him a pair of fluffy socks and a jacket.  
  
"So, where do you reckon they dumped your gear?" he asked.  
  
Esca sighed heavily as he struggled into the jacket. "Probably in the pond at Bently Park." He mumbled. They probably had, now that he thought about it. He'd figured it was all gone for good anyway, he'd never gotten any of his other stuff back. He just hoped they didn't look in the bag before dumping it, his knife was in there and it probably still had blood on it from this afternoon.  
  
"What? Why?" Marcus said, surprised. "Wouldn't they at least put it somewhere where you could get it back?"  
  
Esca shook his head. "I'm sure they think it's funny, and they'll probably assume I'll end up at the park anyway, so I would get it back."  
  
"Oh." Marcus fiddled with the heating for a moment, looking nervous. "Did you want to go check?"  
  
Esca unrolled the socks and tucked his knees up to his chest so he could pull them on. "Not particularly," he grunted. He didn't want to be wet again tonight and if they went to the park there was a good chance the team would still be hanging around on the off chance that he'd turn up. Then they'd throw him in the pond. He'd already gone far enough out of his way to avoid that tonight.  
  
He twiddled his toes in the socks - somewhat bemused by Marcus' choice of lurid orange - then shoved his feet back against the vent. Folding his arms back across his chest, he sat back in his seat, and looked over at Marcus who, for the first time that night, wasn't trying to catch his eye.  
  
He seemed conflicted.  
  
Esca frowned. This guy was weird. "What is it?"  
  
Marcus glanced at him for a moment before turning to stare back out the driver side window. He began fiddling with a piece of loose cotton from the seat cover.  
  
"Sorry, it's just…I thought…aren't you like…" He waved a hand vaguely. "You're the best player on your team! How come they're…" he glanced down at Esca's chest and touched the back of his own head to indicate Esca's head wound.

"Attacking you and stealing your stuff?"  
  
Esca huffed, scrunching himself up in the chair, trying to determine whether it was better to lie, or make a joke of it. He was feeling a bit creeped out by the fact that Marcus seemed to know who he was and had obviously been paying attention to him. Sort of, anyway. His view of Esca was a bit skewed, so maybe he knew as much about Esca as Esca knew about him. He smiled grimly.  
  
"Oh well, last game for me anyway. Their way of saying goodbye, maybe."  
  
Marcus looked at him incredulously. "What do you mean ‘last game', it's the middle of the season! You're…I thought you'd be…you know. Aren't you going to university. Are you moving?"  
  
Esca stared at him. Now if that wasn't the most bizarre reaction ever.  
  
Marcus seemed to realise it too. "Sorry," he slumped back and put the car in gear, easing out of the parking spot. "It's just, you're a great player. Why would you quit? I thought you really liked it."  
  
Esca turned away, wondering whether or not he could explain himself, whether he wanted to explain himself. Of course he liked it. He loved it; nothing beat the rush he got from tearing around the field and annihilating the oppositions defences. On the field he could ignore the world. Out there, he was King. But a kid like him could never make a career of it, not like Marcus seemed to think he could. There were too many things against him. His classmates, for one. He hated dealing with them. They were nice to him when it suited them, but were a genuinely horrible bunch otherwise. And he was crap at determining when people were going to screw him over so things always ended badly when he trusted them.  
  
Then there was the fact that he couldn't really afford soccer anyway. He'd never been an official member of the team and always had to scab gear off someone when he played. There were a whole lot of fees he should've been paying but never had and the only reason he'd gotten away with that was because he was so bloody good on field that the coach was willing to turn a blind eye.  
  
People let him do things, begrudgingly, if he could manage it. But there was no one around to hold him up if he started falling.  
  
"It's not a matter of what I want, really." Esca sighed. If he could just disappear, go somewhere where nobody knew him. Maybe then he would feel free.  
  
***  
  
Marcus had wanted to take him to the hospital, but it didn't take too much convincing to get him to drop him in the main street instead. He'd given Esca his phone number, then, realising that Esca obviously no longer had a phone, left him his address as well. Esca tucked both into his pocket. He took the old pair of sneakers Marcus offered and smiled as he waved goodbye. He wasn't going to be able to pay the guy back and he should've told him as much. But for some strange reason he couldn't stand to have him know that he had nowhere to go and that the only thing he owned right at that moment were the trousers he was wearing.  
  
He was used to not having stuff, so it wasn't shame, exactly. It was, well, Marcus had seen him in a pretty terrible state what with the being half naked and bleeding thing and still managed to carry on the delusion that Esca was the star soccer player for his school team. He'd seemed a bit rattled to discover that it wasn't quite true, but it was apparently only a minor misconception. If Esca told him that he was a homeless orphan who was dropping out of school to go find work in another city to avoid being beaten up by everyone he knew, well, that might be a bit much for Marcus' middle class head to take in. And then he'd pity him, and probably see him as a charity case. And quite possibly not be so free about lending him things, and Esca really needed the shoes.  
  
His few borrowed clothes weren't enough to keep him warm for the night though, not if he was sleeping outside. He contemplated breaking into the garage of his old home, but he wasn't sure he could manage it anymore. They'd changed the locks about a month ago when his foster father had bought a new car and they'd never let him own keys - not that they'd be any use to him if he had've had the privilege, they'd be with the rest of his gear wherever the hell that was.  
  
His foster parents would probably call the cops on him as well, if he were found out.  
  
He dawdled around the streets for an hour or so, waiting for the shops to close up and people to go home, eventually ducking into a late night coffee shop and hunkering down in one of the booths up the back. He'd be kicked out at closing, or if they noticed him since he wasn't buying anything. But the one person manning the coffee machine hadn't seen him come in so he felt safe enough.  
  
It might've been the blood loss, or just the fact that the coffee shop was nice and warm and he was tired, but it took less than ten minutes before Esca fell asleep at the table, his head cradled in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please note that there is self harm in this story.

Blue skies streaked with grey, as far as he could see. Grassy hillocks, short leafy trees dotted about amongst snarls of blackberry. A rose bush.  
  
It felt familiar yet completely foreign at the same time. Like he belonged here, but not yet. Or just maybe not at this time.  
  
A gentle breeze picked up behind him carrying with it the smell of woodsmoke and newly turned earth. There was something else there as well, something he couldn't quite identify, something that made him smile.  
  
He closed his eyes and let his head fall back as he breathed it in. He heard a low chuckle as someone stepped up behind him, a warm chest coming up against his back, but not quite touching, an infinitesimally small space between them. He knew that laugh, but for the moment, he couldn't quite place it's owner. It eluded him, flitting around the edge of his memory.  
  
A face nosed at the side of his head, breathing him in deep. Esca shivered. He tried to press back but hands came up to hold his hips, steadying him, swaying with him, forcing him into a slow dance whilst making his blood run quicker. A stubbled chin came to rest just above the collar of his shirt. Lips nibbled at the base of his ear.  
  
Esca groaned.  
  
Cold fingers crept underneath his shirt and dipped beneath the waistband of his trousers, sliding around his waist and crossing his stomach. One hand going up, the other going down; searching out sensitive skin, fingernails catching. Then Esca was pulled backward and pressed firmly against the chest behind him.  
  
The man whispered his name, hot breath sweeping down over Esca's collarbone. Esca tried to respond, but the words got stuck in his throat, and the name, what was his name? He knew it, he could feel his tongue forming the syllables. They moved with each other and Esca reached up behind him to grasp his partner by the back of the head. Pulling and pushing, arching upward, curling inward. Eyelids fluttered against his cheek, moist lips mouthed his neck. Esca's breath shortened. His fingers clenched. His toes curled.  
  
***  
  
Esca jerked back into consciousness. Almost. Short of breath, his skin tingling, he reached out sluggishly trying to find something he'd lost, something that should be right there. His heart rate shot up when his hand hit the wooden back of the booth and he realised he wasn't where he was supposed to be, was he? Things smelt wrong, the light was strange and where was…?  
  
Esca's vision swam as he tried to lift his head up, but his body wasn't cooperating.  
  
"He's coming around." A voice said. Whoever it was stepped closer and Esca could hear them trying to get his attention, soft but demanding. They rested a firm hand on his shoulder and the weight pressed him back down against the table. Esca blinked up at him, trying to ignore the pain lancing through his head.  
  
He didn't know this person. He didn't recognise any of it. He did however feel the overwhelming urge to snatch at the piece of paper the man was holding, carelessly crumpled in his fist. He pushed himself upright and curled himself further into the back of the booth instead, tucking his hands under his arms. What was paper though, and why would he want it?  
  
"Good, he's awake. Can you get rid of him now?" The coffee guy said from across the room. He opened his mouth to say something else as well, but was interrupted by the tinkle of the bell above the cafe door.  
  
The guy standing over him turned to great the old man that walked in. "You're the guardian?"  
  
The old man shook his head. "Nope, social worker. Sorry the kid is being such a brat." He said.  
  
The guy held out the piece of paper. "This is all he had on him."  
  
The old man took it, glancing at it briefly before folding it in half and dropping it on the table in front of Esca. "Come on, Esca. We'll get you sorted." Then he turned and strode back out the door.  
  
Esca tucked the piece of paper back in his pocket, clenched his fist around it, and followed. He had a social worker, and foster parents. He'd run away because they'd hurt him.  
  
He tried to hold on to the image of the windy field and the warmth of another person, but the harder he tried the faster it trickled away. He didn't understand why it made him want to cry. It wasn't a real memory. He'd never lived on a farm. And he'd never had someone hold him like…that.  
  
He shook himself. It would all be OK. It would all be OK eventually. They couldn't send him back.  
  
***  
  
Esca was given a blanket and directed to the scrappy lounge in the corner of the shelter office. Curling up on his side to avoid putting pressure on his bruised back, he tucked the blanket up over his ears and tried to go back to sleep.  
  
He'd been told that his foster parents had refused to take him back (thankfully), but they were claiming he'd stolen some items of value and run away that afternoon. The social worker had looked at Esca carefully from across the desk and told him the only reason he hadn't been sent straight to the police was because Esca had never done something like that before. The foster parents had graciously agreed to drop any charges if the items were returned by tomorrow.  
  
Esca scowled when he saw the list, which consisted of his mother's ring, his father's knife and the necklaces that had been his brother's. He was suddenly very thankful they'd been nicked. Even if he never got them back, he could still be glad of the fact that he'd never have to hand them over. He couldn't stand the thought of his foster parents in possession of them.  
  
A rather perfunctory young woman named Beth had checked the back of his head and helped him clean up. She'd also handed him two paracetamol which he hadn't taken, but had tucked into his pocket to save for later. She made him sign the book, then sent him away. If he moved his head slightly, he could still see her reading by the light of her lamp in the other room. He'd have to sneak past her in the morning, he didn't think the social worker had believed him when he'd said you couldn't steal what you already owned and there was no way in hell he was ending up at the police station, especially not for something he hadn't done.  
  
He was woken in the early hours of the morning by the sound of the toilet flushing. Out the window, the sky was just turning grey and with great reluctance, Esca knew it was time to go. He briefly considered taking off with the blanket, but knew that would be unacceptable. Stealing a blanket would be a minor infringement, but he hadn't stolen anything in his life and he wasn't about to start now. Unless you included the fact that he was probably never going to return Marcus' clothes, but then again, Marcus had never specified whether they were a loan or for keeps so Esca was less worried about that.  
  
The key to the front door was dangling on a hook in Beth's office and since she seemed to be taking forever in the bathroom, it was easy enough for Esca to duck in and pinch it, sliding it back under the front door once he'd let himself out. He pulled his hood up against the chill wind and tucked his hands back in his pockets, heading for the park. Maybe he'd be lucky enough to find his stuff.  
  
***  
  
It was daylight by the time Esca found his way back to familiar streets and the sun was high enough in the sky to be pleasantly warm against his back. The air became frigid as soon as he walked beneath the shade of the trees though, so he ducked out onto the grass instead as he headed across the park to the pond. He could feel the damp from the melting frost seeping into the canvas of his shoes, but given how sunny it was they were likely to dry off fairly quickly so it didn't worry him too much.  
  
He immediately wished he'd stayed beneath the cover of the trees though when he topped the hill and the pond came into view. He hadn't expected anyone to be out and about yet, save maybe the occasional hardcore jogger and he was surprised and a little bit annoyed to see that there was already someone standing on the bridge that led to the island in the centre of the pond. Someone who Esca had been hoping to never ever see again, sort of. At least, he thought that's what he'd been hoping. His body seemed to be having other ideas though, if the warm flush and the tightness in his chest was any indication.  
  
Marcus waved to him as Esca made his way down the hill. When he joined him on the bridge Marcus leaned over the railing, pointing into the water.  
  
"I think that's your bag, I was just going to go and get a stick."  
  
Esca peered into the brown water. There was, indeed, the rope of a duffel bag floating amongst the water lilies. Esca was surprised by the relief that flooded through him. He just hoped all his gear was inside.  
  
They both went off and found suitable sized branches and with a combined effort, managed to lift the waterlogged bag out of the water. They dumped it on the bridge and Esca bent down to open it up and rummage through it. Satisfied that everything was relatively intact, he pulled the drawstring up tight and stood up again. He wasn't about to dump everything out in front of Marcus.  
  
Unfortunately, it didn't look like Marcus was about to leave any time soon. He was watching Esca nervously.  
  
"You're still wearing the jacket." Marcus said, looking oddly pleased.  
  
Esca looked down and flushed.  
  
Though he knew it wasn't Marcus intention, he suddenly felt ashamed at the fact that he hadn't been able to change. Here he was, exactly as Marcus had left him last night and still unable to repay him. He'd known that it was unlikely that he'd be able to return the clothes let alone reciprocate the action, but he hadn't actually expected to have to face Marcus and tell him so. He was hoping to disappear. And you know, magically reappear at some time when Marcus was in need of help so that Esca could come to the rescue. That way they would be even without Esca ever having to wonder what kind of person Marcus was; without ever having to question Marcus' sense of morality.  
  
Having someone indebted to them seemed to change people, they always expected something in return even when they said they didn't and sometimes demanded it be repaid in a manner not always entirely acceptable. Esca didn't want to think that of Marcus.  
  
"Err, yes. Did you want it back." Esca pulled his hands out of the pockets and went to undo the zipper, but Marcus shook his head in protest.  
  
"No! I mean, it's fine. You can keep it."  
  
But Esca already had the jacket off and was handing it over, tugging the collar of the hoody back into place where it had been pulled down as he'd removed the jacket.  
  
Marcus didn't take it. He looked confused. "That's my jumper."  
  
Esca stared at the bridge railing. What the hell? Did he want him to strip in the middle of the park? Was he going to demand his shoes and fluffy orange socks as well? Esca nearly reached for the base of the jumper to take that off too, but that would've been dumb considering he could already feel himself getting cold; the jumper did nothing against the wind and even the heat of the sun couldn't diminish the effect of a chill northerly.  
  
He looked up at Marcus to try and figure out what he was thinking only to find himself being studied.  
  
Marcus' eyes flicked back up to his. "You're a bit of an idiot, you know."  
Esca frowned.  
  
"Sorry, but you are." Marcus gestured to the jacket, "You should put that back on before you freeze."  
  
Esca paused for a moment before complying.  
  
As Esca struggled to get his arms back into the sleeves, Marcus bent over and picked up the sodden duffel bag, holding it out at arms length to avoid the dripping water. "And maybe you should come back to mine and we'll see if we can't do something about this."  
  
***  
  
They'd put Esca's soaked duffel in a garbage bag in order to transport it to Marcus' house and when they'd arrived Marcus had marched Esca straight to the laundry and told him to sort his gear out. All the clothes and the duffel went into the washing machine and Marcus gave Esca an old canvas school bag to transfer the rest of his stuff into once it'd been rinsed. Then he'd passed Esca a towel and another set of clothes and directed him to the bathroom telling him to come find him when he was done.  
  
Esca, feeling slightly paranoid, had locked the bathroom door while he showered. He'd checked the window was locked as well, even though it was on the second floor. He laughed at himself when he realised what he'd done, but left the door locked until he was fully dressed again anyway. He technically still didn't know Marcus that well.  
  
He was annoyed to discover the jeans Marcus had given him were way too big and not only dragged on the floor, but dipped dangerously low around his hips. He was showing off more than a couple of inches worth of boxer shorts (Marcus had assured him they were a new pair that he hadn't worn yet and Esca was inclined to believe him given that they were covered with very strange looking smiley faces) and he felt like they were going to fall off all together. Thankfully both the shirt and jumper were overly long.  
  
Rolling up his other clothes to take down to the laundry, Esca tried to think of a way to ask for a belt, but it turned out he didn't have to; Marcus had already thought of that. When Esca found him in the lounge room he was busy trying to put new holes in one of his own with a nail and a hammer.  
  
He looked up sheepishly when Esca walked in. "I'm sorry I didn't have anything smaller." He passed the belt over. "My uncle donated all my old stuff."  
  
Esca took it warily, turning his back to thread it through his belt loops and do it up. He wasn't really surprised that he had to hitch it right up and that the extra holes really were needed. Though he was a little bit weirded out that Marcus had judged where to put the new holes correctly.  
  
Boy he hoped Marcus was just an overly nice guy and not some freak. Wearing the guys clothes made it much more apparent that Marcus was actually huge in comparison to Esca. He didn't want to have to try and fight him off.  
  
Glancing around the room quickly, he was relieved to note the fact that his shoes, well, the shoes Marcus had lent him, were still sitting in the hallway. He'd have to grab them if he had to make a run for it.  
  
"So," Marcus rummaged down the back of the couch for a moment, pulling out two video game controllers and a remote control. "You wanna play?"  
  
***  
  
They spent the majority of the morning kicking each other's arses in everything from Soul Calibur to Gran Turismo 3, taking a break at morning tea time to raid the kitchen and another a bit later on when they remembered Esca's clothes needed to be transferred to the dryer. Esca slowly began to relax, slumping back into the chair and getting into the game instead of sitting stiffly at the end of the couch and staring fixedly at the screen. Marcus had even managed to get a few smiles out of him.  
  
Esca was still waiting for the questions to come though. He knew Marcus was going to start asking, he could see the guy assessing him and making the decision to wait. It was alternately making Esca feel safer and then annoyed. He was happier sitting around and not thinking about it and the games were a great distraction, but because he knew the conversation had to happen, he was cranky that they couldn't just get it over and done with. He was beginning to think it would be better to volunteer the information, but he didn't want to make things awkward and he didn't want Marcus to know, and he didn't know what Marcus already suspected, or what he'd think of Esca when he did know. So Esca kept his mouth shut and enjoyed himself. He was thankful for the opportunity to forget for a little while.  
  
As the day went on though, Esca began to notice things that he was surprised he hadn't picked up on before. Less surprising, maybe, if you considered the fact that he'd been trying to avoid looking at Marcus, but once he'd had the chance to watch him he realised how very obvious it was.  
  
"You're injured." Esca couldn't help but point out when Marcus disappeared into the kitchen to find them biscuits and then limped back out again.  
  
Marcus nearly stumbled, fumbling with the plate as he slumped back down into the couch. "I was," he said cautiously. "My thigh. Last year." He picked up the controller again, but then looked over at Esca and put it down again. "It's been fixed." He held out the plate. "Biscuit?"  
  
Esca shook his head. "What happened?"

"What happened to you?" Marcus countered.  
  
Esca waited.  
  
Marcus fidgeted for a moment before placing the plate on the coffee table. He folded his arms across his chest and looked Esca directly in the eye. "Some of your team mates thought it'd be a fun idea to run me down with a car."  
  
Esca tensed, suddenly realising this wasn't the most brilliant of situations. Was this why Marcus had lured him here?  
  
"Cracked my thigh bone and tore up the muscle. It was four months before I could even run on it. Six months before the physio would let me play again." Marcus glared down at his leg. "Still hurts sometimes."  
  
Esca's eyes flickered around the room, calculating the quickest way to get across the room and out the door. The window was out, it probably hadn't been unlocked for months and it was no good heading for the kitchen behind him, it only had the one door. It would depend on how fast Marcus was and whether or not Esca could get past him to the hallway before Marcus could get up to stop him. He changed his grip on the game controller still clutched in his hand, wondering how much use it would be as a weapon.  
  
He kept his eyes on Marcus, waiting, watching, studying him, trying to figure out what he'd missed, what Marcus was going to do.  
  
"Did you get them back?" Esca asked.  
  
Marcus shook his head angrily. "Not yet." He kicked the coffee table, looking back up at Esca, furious. "I will though."  
  
Esca tried to stay calm.  
  
"I doubt taking it out on me would do you any good." Esca said quietly. "As a matter of fact, they'd probably thank you for it. Crippling Esca is one of their favourite games."  
  
Marcus' reaction was a bit of an odd one but Esca didn't stop to analyse it. He'd seen too many angry people coming at him to sit around and wait to see what he was going to do. He shot out of his chair the second Marcus moved. Angry people meant one thing, pain. And he'd already had enough of that. He leaped over the coffee table and vaulted straight over the back of the couch Marcus was sitting on. He could hear Marcus scrabbling to get up behind him.  
  
"Whow, hey!" Marcus yelled.  
  
Esca's socks skidded on the wooden flooring and he crashed into the wall as he stooped to pick up his shoes. He flung the controller back through the lounge room door as he stood up again, hearing Marcus curse as he was hit. Stumbling toward the front door, he reached out trying to wrench it open.  
  
"Esca, stop!"  
  
It wouldn't budge.  
  
Esca dropped the shoes, one hand twisting the door knob, the other on the deadlock. It wouldn't turn. It was locked. He shook the door, rattling the frame.  
  
"No, no. Hey!"  
  
Esca spun to face Marcus, his breath catching in his throat. Marcus held his arms up, blocking the hall. He moved forward slowly, hedging Esca in.  
  
"Stop, Esca. Just stop."  
  
Esca knew he wasn't going to make it past him; the space was too narrow, Marcus too large. He tried anyway and wasn't particularly surprised when they both ended up on the floor, Esca flat on his back, Marcus' weight coming down on him hard.  
  
He couldn't breathe past the pain seizing up his chest. He let out a choked whimper, hating himself for such a weak sound, but unable to prevent himself from crying out.  
  
Marcus jostled him, one hand gripping Esca's wrist and pinning it to the floor. Esca blanked himself out as he waited for the beating to come. One day it would be over. One day he would escape.  
  
***  
  
The light was bright in Esca's eyes. He squinted, crinkling up his nose, watching the tall grass wave above him. He was enclosed on all sides; secluded. Hidden from the rest of the world in a bed of reeds.  
  
The warm weight pressing up against his side shifted. A hand slid up his chest to rest on his lower ribs. The head resting on his shoulder lifted.  
  
"Hey." Esca looked up into smiling brown eyes. He reached up to run his fingers through already mussed hair.  
  
"Hey yourself." Marcus leaned down to kiss him briefly. "I should probably go and fetch the sheep."  
  
Esca slung an arm around the back of Marcus' neck and pulled him back down again. "Cub'll come get us when it's time." Esca mumbled against his mouth, concentrating very hard on ignoring the fact that Marcus was laughing at him, albeit silently. He considered enacting some form of revenge, but he was too relaxed and boneless try. It was warm and he was comfy. And he had Marcus to play with.  
  
A sharp intake of breath from Marcus made Esca pause. "Leg?" He asked.  
  
Marcus grunted.  
  
"Hang on." Esca gripped the back of Marcus' tunic and tucked one bare foot behind Marcus' knees. "Ok, roll." They tumbled over.  
  
Marcus groaned softly as Esca settled on top of him, running a hand up and down his thigh, squeezing gently. When he opened his eyes again, Esca was the only thing he could see. Dark grey eyes, so very gentle. A smile nothing short of amazing. He reached out to run his fingers gently across it. Tracing the curves he knew so well and wondering how it could be so fascinating every single time.  
  
A rustling in the grass broke them apart moments later and Cub nosed his way into their hideaway.  
  
Marcus snorted and buried his face in Esca's neck, nipping at Esca's collarbone.  
  
"See," Esca said brightly. "Cub's smart." He dug his fingers into Marcus' ribs to make him let go and leaped up as soon as he was released. "Time for sheep chasing." He reached down and hauled Marcus up, then flitted away into the grass, Cub quick on his heels.  
  
"Esca!" Marcus called, watching him disappear. "Wait up. Esca!"  
  
***  
  
"Wake up! Esca!"  
  
Esca frowned at the distress that had suddenly arisen in Marcus voice. He tried to turn back to reassure him, but his balance suddenly went and his vision swum viciously. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor, in a house. A very odd house.  
  
"Esca?"  
  
Marcus was above him again, but sitting awkwardly on the floor, one hand gripping the front of Esca's shirt.  
  
"Esca, I didn't mean to frighten you." Marcus rubbed his thumb gently against Esca's collarbone, soothing. "Geez you scare easy. You thought I was trying to get back at your team?"  
  
Esca had to fight the urge to roll over and crawl into Marcus' lap. What was going on? There were some very mixed up feelings marching through his chest. He reached out with one hand and tucked his fingers into the folds of Marcus' jeans which at least held the overwhelming urge to touch at bay.  
  
"It'd have to be a pretty damn elaborate plan if that was what I was up to. Are you ok?" He gave Esca a small shake. "Esca?"  
  
Esca closed his eyes and groaned. "Chan eil fhios agam."  
  
Marcus stilled. He rubbed Esca's chest again. "Hey?"  
  
Esca blinked up at him, closing his eyes when Marcus leaned in close.  
  
Gentle fingers combed through his hair, probing at the back of his head. "Are you hurt?"  
  
Esca choked on a laugh as all his bruises suddenly said hello. He hissed when Marcus hand came into contact with the cut on the back of his head. "No more than usual." He groaned. "Am I bleeding?"  
  
Marcus let out the breath he'd been holding as he checked his hand. "No, no blood. Can you get up? Or do you want to stay on the floor?"  
  
"Up." Esca said shortly, then using Marcus for leverage he climbed back to his feet.  
  
Marcus guided him back to the lounge.  
  
"So you're not hell bent on taking the members of my stupid soccer team out one by one then." Esca mumbled. It was strange knowing that that was the reason he'd run but feeling as if the conversation hadn't really happened. Marcus enamoured with him and Marcus angry were blurring. He tried harder to concentrate on the Marcus in front of him.  
  
"No, my revenge plan was much more subtle, you know." Marcus smiled crookedly. "Make them ashamed to be alive and playing soccer. We were going to beat you guys yesterday, but my stupid leg…" He trailed off, digging his knuckles into his thigh.  
  
Esca wanted to ask if he'd had one operation on it, or two. He didn't though, because he couldn't determine where the thought had come from. Nor why he suddenly remembered Marcus laid up and asking for water.  
  
"Are you sure you're ok?" Marcus said, looking at him intently.  
  
Esca nodded, feeling stupid.  
  
Marcus thankfully took him at his word.  
  
"So are you going to tell me now? An answer for an answer?"  
  
Esca buried his face in one of the cushions and considered his choices. This was going to be hard. He took a deep breath and started to talk.


	3. Chapter 3

Esca didn't end up telling Marcus much.  More about his douchebag team - some of whom Marcus already knew - than anything else.  Vague details about his foster family and running away seemed to be enough to satisfy him.   
  
It still made Esca uneasy and out of sorts though and he eventually escaped the lounge room claiming he needed to go to the loo.   
  
He didn't, but he needed to hide; he'd had his fill of human contact for the day. His heart was pounding, his palms sweating, and he could swear he was shaking all over. He just couldn't handle the questions, or the way Marcus was watching him. He needed to get away from him.  
  
He flipped the lock and sat down on the toilet, closing his eyes so he didn't have to look himself in the mirror opposite. Honestly who put a mirror across from the loo? He buried his face in his hands, digging his fingernails into the skin of his cheeks.  
  
He had to either calm down or get out. Preferably both. He couldn't stay here. His head was more messed up than it'd ever been before. But where the hell was he going to go? He had no home, no food, no money, no anything. Marcus would probably offer to put him up for the night, but Esca didn't want to stay with him.  
  
Well, he did want stay with him. He really, really wanted to stay with him. Which was precisely why he shouldn't. And wouldn't. And he would tell Marcus no when… IF Marcus offered. Because staying with Marcus would be a bad idea. He was already doing everything wrong. Marcus pitied him. Esca didn't want pity. But that was what happened when you told people your family was dead and your foster parents hated you.  
  
He startled when he heard footsteps in the hall followed by a gentle knocking on the door. "Hey Esca?" Marcus said. "I just called my uncle and he said it's alright if you crash here for the night. I'm going to order us some Chinese, ok?"  
  
Esca let out a strangled acknowledgement, then cursed at the receding footsteps. "Shit, bugger, fuck, shit!" He whispered furiously, standing up to pace back and forth in the tiny room. "What the hell was that?" Yes, what the hell? Now he was talking to himself. He threaded his fingers into his hair and tugged furiously. Man he wished he had a knife. He had to calm down.  
  
Taking a deep breath, then letting it out slowly, he ran his eyes over the room, searching. He needed something sharp, something sharp enough to cut. Something that wouldn't be missed if he had to dispose of it. He was immediately drawn to the disposable razor that was sitting on top of the soap holder in the shower, but that obviously wouldn't be overlooked and was probably less than hygienic. So he left that as a just in case and took heart in the fact that it meant there should be more of them around somewhere. They came in packets, there should be a whole tonne.  
  
He checked the medicine cabinet, finding pill bottles, mouth wash, and toothbrushes, as well as a half empty packet of condoms and some lube. No razors.  
  
The cupboard beneath the sink divulged only cleaning supplies and a bundle of rags. The bathroom had no other forms of storage space.  
Esca kicked the tiled floor in an effort to stop himself from kicking the cupboard. Damn, damn, damn. He tucked his hands beneath his armpits and gripped the material of his jumper.  
  
Could he get to the laundry without being seen? Probably not, and Marcus would follow him. No way he'd have time to get into his bag, cut, put it back, and treat it. His eyes flickered back to the razor in the shower. That was still a really bad idea.  
  
He searched hopefully down around the corners of the room. Something, there had to be something. There were sharp things every where when you didn't need them.  
  
He glanced up at the light bulb wondering how plausible it would sound if he told Marcus it'd blown and he'd broken it trying to remove it. Not very? It was worth a shot considering he'd already spent ages in here. It was a better explanation than any of the other reasons Marcus could suspect.  
  
He was about to haul himself up onto the sink so he could see if he could actually reach the light bulb, when he noticed a corner of plastic protruding from the top of the medicine cabinet. Standing on his tip toes, he stretched up and tugged at it with his fingertips.  
  
An almost empty packet. One razor left. Score. He flipped the empty plastic bag back up onto the top of the medicine cabinet, twirling the razor in his fingers. Three blades, ultra smooth shave.  
  
He stepped over to the bathroom door, listening carefully, trying to determine where Marcus was. He didn't want him coming back and surprising him. It was very faint, but he caught the words ‘rice' and ‘dumplings'. Which meant he was still on the phone to the Chinese place. Good, he had time. Not much, but enough. He could cut fast and then be back in the lounge room before Marcus finished the call, then he wouldn't have to explain why he'd been in there so long.  
  
There was no bin in the bathroom so he tucked the plastic razor cover into his pocket, then looked around for something to break it with so he could remove the blades. Finding nothing useful, he lodged the razor head in the cupboard door, crushing it.  
  
Broken pieces of plastic scattered across the tiles. Esca pocketed them as well.  
  
Holding what was left of the razor head carefully between his thumb and forefinger and forcing his hands not to shake, he gripped the back of one of the blades and wiggled it until the plastic screws came loose. The blade broke free, glinting brightly under the fluorescent lights. He studied its dented edge, no longer perfect, but still a sharpened flake of metal. Any thought of discontinuing left him, he was now too focused on getting it done.  
  
He sat the remainder of the broken razor head on the edge of the sink then hitched his shirt up. Quickly and without thinking about it, he pulled the razor blade across one side of his stomach in short sharp jerks directly beneath the cut he'd done yesterday. He didn't look, he was already breathing hard from the anticipated pain and he could already feel the cold trickle dribbling down his his side as he dropped his shirt. Razor cuts always ended up deep and scary. He didn't want to see what he'd just done. He couldn't possibly bleed through three layers though. It'd be ok, he'd check later. He needed to get back to the lounge room.  
  
He bit his lip trying to ignore the flare of throbbing pain in his side and looked around for something to wrap the razors in. Toilet roll was too soft, cardboard, no, paper! He had the paper Marcus had written his number on yesterday. He scrabbled to pull it out of his pocket, unfolding it and dropping the razor into it. It stayed stuck to his finger for a second before peeling off; he'd sliced his fingertip as well, dammit. Quickly gathering up the rest of the broken razor, he dumped the pieces in the paper as well and rolled it all up, sliding it back into his pocket. He checked himself in the mirror, hoping he didn't look too ruffled. He was breathing heavy still, but the pain was slowly taking the edge off. He'd be ok. It was fine.  
  
Marcus wouldn't notice.  
  
He paused at the bathroom door before opening it, running his fingers through his hair. He couldn't help but smile slightly at the fact that Marcus was still on the phone and was now talking about soccer? He apparently ordered from this restaurant often. Esca slipped out the door and descended the stairs, ducking back into the lounge room. He felt slightly panicky when he felt the damp rim of his boxer shorts cold against his waist when he sat down, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now, he'd have to wait until later. He resisted the urge to look.  
  
A good thing, too, as Marcus wandered in seconds later.  
  
"Oh hey," Marcus smiled at him. "I don't know what you like, but I ordered our usual, plus some extra." He flopped down onto lounge, the nervous expression he'd been sporting for half the day back yet again. "You like Chinese, right? ‘Cause as long as you like your Chinese you should be right. Everything they make is awesome."  
  
Esca smiled reassuringly, the adrenaline buzz still rushing through his system. "Sure."  
  
"Oh, good." Marcus ducked his head and then made a point of looking around for the remote.  
  
Esca hoped he liked it, he'd never had the opportunity to eat it before.  
  
Dinner was probably the strangest family meal Esca had ever had. And he'd had quite the number to compare it to. Marcus' uncle turned out to be a fairly relaxed, jovial man with a faint undercurrent of hurt-my-nephew-and-die, which made conversation both very personal and stressful to endure. If it was some kind of test, Esca felt he'd surely failed. He could practically feel the sideways glances, and the disapproving yet nonchalant glares bouncing around the table. There was some kind of silent war going on between Marcus and his uncle and by half way through dinner Esca regretted accidentally agreeing to stay the night.  
  
But unfortunately, every time he even thought about telling Marcus ‘Thank you for the clothes, I'm going now, see you around.' His mind was invaded by an incredibly vivid image of Marcus, absolutely devastated; his body hunched and arms folded, his face a picture of such absolute and utter dejection that Esca's throat immediately closed off and his heart clenched making him incapable of speaking at all. He didn't even know why it kept happening, he'd never seen Marcus look like that.  
  
As a result, Esca missed most of the conversation leading up to the end of dinner and nearly started out of his seat when Marcus' Uncle thumped him on the shoulder in a friendly manner and left them to clean up the dishes saying he was off to make some calls. Marcus couldn't stop smiling the entire time they were packing up the kitchen, which was hell on Esca's insides. He could feel his world shifting and could see his freedom of choice about to disappear again, but when Marcus looked at him out the corner of his eye, just like that, he had a strange feeling that things might be ok, just for once.  
  
They spent a couple of hours watching TV after the dishes were done and then Marcus showed him to the guest room and went off to take a shower.  It was a small room with a single bed and a lot of boxes stacked up against one wall.  The one window looked out into a sunroom off the side of the house and the lack of escape options made Esca feel trapped.  Whoever had done the renovations on this place had some strange ideas on design.  
  
A soft knock on the door startled Esca.  He turned to find Marcus' uncle peering around the frame.  
  
"Esca, do you mind if I have a word for a moment?"  
  
Esca nodded, hoping he wasn't being asked to leave while Marcus wasn't there to protest.    
  
"We can talk here or in my office."    
  
"Here's fine, sir."  Esca said quickly.  This room was small and cramped and far too shut in, but Esca suspected that Marcus' uncle was the type to have an intimidating office.  He was a professor.  They had big desks and lots of books and guest chairs designed to make people feel small.  He was feeling small enough already.  
  
"You can call me Aquila if you like." Aquila sat down on the corner of the bed, gesturing for Esca to do the same.   
  
Esca leant against the windowsill instead, thankful that Aquila hadn't closed the door.  He didn't care how nice these people seemed, or how old and fragile this guy looked, he wasn't putting himself in that position.  
  
Aquila didn't seem to register Esca's small act of rebellion, though, he looked like he was too busy trying to figure out how to say what he'd come to say.  
  
Esca got the feeling that he didn't usually talk much.  
  
"I'm afraid Marcus told me what's going on with your foster family and your team mates and such."   Aquila looked at him sternly.  "We've got a bit of a situation on our hands here."  
  
Esca tucked his hands into his pockets and looked down at his feet.    
  
"In future, if you intend for him to keep secrets for you, you should probably know that he can't lie to save his life and he's usually too honest to do so anyway."  Aquila chuckled a bit.  "But in this case it's a good thing that I know."  
  
Esca really couldn't see how this was a good thing.  But what was one more person knowing going to do?  He'd be leaving tomorrow, unless Aquila intended for him to leave now.  Which didn't seem to be the case.  
  
"I called the police and social services-"  
  
The rest of what Aquila had to say came to Esca in a blur of sounds.  ‘Stolen goods.' ‘Sort it out.' "Can't stay here.'  ‘Pressing charges.' ‘Don't ruin your future.'  He was sure he wasn't getting everything that was being said, but he couldn't concentrate well enough to sort it out.  He began feeling short of breath and his head began throbbing again.   
  
Were the police coming now?  Were they taking him away again?  No.  Aquila was talking as if he and Marcus were going to be regular friends.  Did he not know that Esca intended to leave tomorrow?   
  
Aquila seemed to notice that he'd lost Esca's attention.  "Are you listening?  I know it all sounds dreadful but as long as your honest it can be fixed."  
  
"I didn't steal anything.  It was my stuff."  He said, angrily.  "You can't steal what you already own.  And they didn't give it to me, it's stuff from my family.  They can't have it."  
  
Aquila raised his hands placatingly.  "Ok, see.  We can get that sorted out.  I'm sorry to make you worry and we can't do anything until Monday, but until then you're safe here and nobody is going to hurt you."  
  
Esca clenched his fists within his pockets and looked Aquila in the eyes.  "Nobody has hurt me."  
  
Aquila looked at him far too knowingly.  "I don't believe that for a second."  He held Esca's gaze for a moment before deflating slightly, sighing.  "Get some rest."  He pushed himself to his feet wearily.  "You look like you need it more than I do at the moment."  He smiled gently before exiting.  
  
As soon as the door was closed Esca buried his face in his hands.  This was not a good thing.  He stood up and started pacing the room.  How did he get out?  And did he wait until tomorrow or did he leave now?    
  
If he left now then Marcus and Aquila wouldn't need to go to all the trouble of talking to people or doing things for him and he'd feel less guilty about not being able to pay them back.  
  
If he left now he wouldn't have to worry about the police showing up, or running into his foster parents, or running into his team mates again.  
  
If he left now he'd probably never see Marcus again.  
  
Esca fiddled with the paper wrapped razors buried in his pocket wanting to cut again but too afraid to.  Marcus might choose to come talk to him again, to say goodnight, or make sure he was ok after the talk he'd just had with Aquila.  Marcus would do that kind of thing, right?  Make sure he was ok?  Unless he thought Esca was already asleep.  
  
Esca flipped the light switch off so Marcus might assume he was asleep and leave him alone if he came to the door and no light shone from beneath it.  He continued pacing.  He wished the window led to the outside instead of just the sun room.  It felt like a cage.  He wandered over to the window and tested it just for kicks but it was firmly painted shut.    
  
A window that was no longer of any use in a room that was no longer occupied, ever.  
  
He sat down on the edge of the bed.  
  
If he listened carefully he could hear Marcus and his uncle moving about the house.  Locking doors and getting ready for bed.  
  
Esca stood up again when footsteps approached his door.  
  
"Esca?"  Marcus said softly, knocking on the door.  
  
Esca wrapped his arms around his middle.  "Yeah?"  
  
The door opened revealing Marcus in boxers and a shirt, holding Esca's duffel.  "I thought you might want your things."  He squinted into the dark, probably unable to make out Esca in the dark.  
  
Well, that was one less thing for him to collect before he left.    
  
He was leaving.  Tonight.  Staying would just lead to stress, and worry, and people he couldn't fight, and things he was too ashamed to face.  
  
Marcus dropped the duffel by the door when Esca didn't move to retrieve it from him.  "Goodnight."    
  
Esca let out the breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding.  "Thanks, Marcus."  
  
The door closed again, enveloping him in darkness.  
  
Esca waited until the footsteps had receded and the door down the hall had closed before sitting down on the bed again.    
  
He'd wait a while.  Wait until they were asleep and then he'd go.  
  
  
***  
  
Wind buffeted the walls of the shed, whistling through gaps and rattling the door.  Esca tipped the last bucket of water into the trough in the sheep pen, watching them huddle in the corner.  A lamb stumbled over to see what was going on then decided it wasn't worth it and fled back to it's mother.  Esca smiled as he dropped the bucket back near the barrels.  He loved seeing the young animals so clumsy and new.  
  
He pushed the shed door open just enough to slip outside, shivering as the chill wind pulled at his hair and clothes.  Spots of rain, ice cold, ripped into his skin.  Esca cursed and quickly shut the door.  Dropping the latch back in place and giving it a shake to make sure it was firmly closed before putting his head down and marching back to the cottage.  
  
The lamps shining in the window were too dim to light the way across the yard but at least Esca knew he was heading in the right direction.  Too bad if there storm had blown anything in from out in the paddock though.  He couldn't see the ground and was guaranteed to trip on anything in his way.  
  
Mud squelched between his toes, catching his feet and making him stumble. That along with the intense winds that kept catching his clothes, dumping rain on him, and pushing him about meant that he was soaked through by the time he reached the wall of the cottage.  Well away from the door as well, the wind was too strong and unpredictable for him to counteract.  
  
They needed a wind break, this wind was ridiculous.  
  
Esca cleaned his feet off on the grass and wrenched the cottage door open, almost falling on his face as he stepped inside when the wind slammed it shut again behind him.     
  
Marcus looked at him from across the room, startled.  He laughed.  "Where'd you blow in from?  You looked like you've rolled all the way across the paddock."  
  
Esca glared at him.  "You're planting trees for me in the spring."  
  
"Trees?" Marcus placed the pot of steaming stew he was holding on the table and wandered over to Esca.  
  
"Yes, trees."  Esca shook the water from his hair.  "Unless you want me to get blown away in the future. "  He tugged on the corner of Marcus' shirt.  "I think I'm done growing.  When I get frail the wind will pick me up and carry me away."  
  
Marcus smiled and wrapped his arms around Esca, pulling him in tight, ignoring his wet clothes and running his hands over Esca's chilled skin. "I won't let you fly away, Esca."  He murmured, breath hot against Esca's neck.  
  
Esca snaked his arms around Marcus' middle and held on.  "You might not have much of a say in it if the wind nicks off with me between the shed and the house."  
  
Marcus chuckled and kissed he side of his jaw.  "Ok, in the spring."  He released Esca and led him towards the table.  "Let's get you fed so I can thaw you out."  
  
They piled every blanket they had on top of themselves that night, falling asleep to the sound of the rain pouring down outside.  With the bed solid beneath him and Marcus warm against his back, Esca had never felt so safe.  
  
***  
  
Esca woke up shivering.    
  
Marcus was gone.  
  
He felt around behind himself finding only cold sheets.  
  
All the blankets were gone, and he was curled up on the side of the mattress with his feet hanging off the edge.  He'd fallen asleep while waiting.    
  
Waiting for Marcus?  
  
No.  
  
Marcus was hurt?  
  
No.  
  
The room smelled all wrong.  Dusty.  Stagnant.  Dead.  
  
He pushed himself up off the mattress and let his socked feet rest on the floor.    
  
These weren't his clothes and this wasn't his home.  He needed to get away.  
  
Esca felt his way to the door and found the light.  It was harsh and bright, making his eyes hurt.  He blinked the grit away, rubbing his hands over his face.  The sense of wrongness lingered.    
  
He picked up his duffel and tipped everything out on the bed, cataloguing all his possessions again.  The knife gave him a certain sense of comfort and he ran his fingers over the hilt before wrapping it in a shirt and stuffing it back into his bag.  All his stuff smelt like washing powder and Marcus, which was weird.  He hadn't noticed at first, really.  He'd smelt it when he'd put Marcus' jumper on in the locker room, and when he'd been sitting next to Marcus all day in Marcus' clothes on Marcus' couch, but this was the first time he'd associated it with belonging to Marcus.  Esca wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.  
  
It wouldn't matter anyway, the smell would disappear in a couple of days.  
  
Packing everything away, Esca donned both the hoody and jacket Marcus had leant him and then slung the duffel bag over his shoulder.  He felt guilty that he was taking off with Marcus' stuff but he knew that he really needed it.  Besides, it wasn't like Marcus would begrudge the fact that he'd taken them, he could always buy more.    
  
To make himself feel better about it he started coming up with scenarios where he could pay Marcus back or return the favour again.  One day he would have the means to do that.  Help other people.  One day.  
  
He flicked the light off and opened the door.  
  
It was easy making his way out of the house.  His shoes were by the door and there was a set of keys sitting on the side table to unlock the deadlock.  He pulled the same trick he'd used at the social worker's office, locking the door once he was outside and slipping the keys back underneath.  
  
The air was bitterly cold, making his chest hurt every time he breathed in.  He pressed the collar of the jacket over his nose and mouth and made his way down the footpath.  
  
He got as far as the front gate before doubt hit him.  
  
The minute and half he spent staring at the latch on the gate was enough time for Marcus to show up and help him doubt some more.   
  
"Esca?" He stopped halfway down the path, seemingly afraid to come any closer.  "I understand if you want to leave, I won't hold it against you and you don't owe me anything, but please don't go."  
  
Esca stared at the footpath, refusing to look up as he listened to Marcus talk.  His low voice and halting words sounded so familiar even though they shouldn't and seeing him again, even in the dim light cast by the street lights, was more than he could bear.  
  
"I know you're scared and that facing what's right in front of you is worse than anything you can imagine out there in the unknown, but there's people here that can help you, that will help you.  I'll help you.  And if you suddenly decide that it's not worth it in a couple of days, or a week or a month from now, then I'll..." he paused for a moment and flailed a bit.  "Well, to be honest, I'll probably still try and convince you to stay, but I'll sort you out for better gear than you've got now."  He gestured to Esca's duffel bag and grimaced a bit.  
  
Esca frowned, trying to find words.  He just didn't understand what Marcus could possibly want from him.  "Why?"  
  
Marcus didn't seem to know what he wanted either.  "Because I can?"  He shrugged.  "Because you need it?  Because I don't think it's fair that you've been dealt such a crappy hand?"  
  
Esca shook his head.  "You decided to help even before you knew any of that."  
  
Marcus shrugged again, tucking his hands underneath his armpits and hunching over.  "Because I like you?"  
  
Esca snorted and reached for the gate latch.  "It's not a test, Marcus. I don't know the answer."  Esca didn't even really know what he was asking.  
  
"Well it's true!"  Marcus took a step closer.  "Besides which, you play a mean game of soccer and it rubs me up the wrong way watching you run away from that.  Your team has never lost to ours the entire time we've been in high school and that's because of you.  I remember watching you run on field the first year I made it onto the team.  I never made it off the bench but there you were, the midget of the team running circles around all the other guys.  Tell me that's not what you want to be doing.  Tell me that's not where you really want to be.  All you need is for a scout to see you.  You need to play."  
  
Esca shook his head and looked up at Marcus.  He couldn't go back.  No matter how much help he got from Marcus, he wasn't ever dealing with those guys again.  They'd sabotage him all the way to a shallow grave.  "I'm never playing for that team again."  
  
Marcus smiled at him.  "So come play for ours."


	4. Chapter 4

Esca laughed.  "Are you serious?  Come play for your team?  The team I wiped the field with the other night?  How do you think that's going to go, Marcus?"  He opened the gate and walked out, but then he turned around and walked back in.  "It would go badly."  He couldn't leave.  "My team hates your team, your team hates my team.  Everybody hates my team!  They're douchebags."   He couldn't walk away from Marcus.  "Playing for your guys isn't going to make them hate me any less!"  He didn't want to abandon him.  Though why it felt like abandonment he didn't know.  
  
Marcus smiled at him crookedly.  "My team is really nice."  He shrugged, then frowned a little.  "Except for maybe Placidus."  
  
Esca glared him.    
   
"But even he wouldn't lock you in the shower block with no clothes in the middle of winter."  Marcus raised his hands placatingly.  
  
Esca turned back to the gate angrily, pausing only when Marcus said his name again.    
  
"Esca."    
  
He could hear it being said in so many different ways, inexplicably.  Had Marcus already found his way into Esca's dreams?    
  
He could hear it said in greeting, in passing, exasperated, panicked.  Soft, loud, in public and in private.  He could hear it in ways that made his chest hurt and his body warm, in ways that made pleasure curl around his middle.  
  
Esca reached for the gate and slowly pushed it closed.  The sound of the latch falling back into place was like a cage door slamming.  Only, Esca didn't know whether he was locking himself in or locking himself out.  
  
Who was Marcus?  Why was he doing this?  Did he feel the same impossible connection that was binding Esca to him?  
  
He sighed heavily and turned back to the house.  "I'm blaming you if I get arrested."  He snapped, pushing passed Marcus and marching up the path.   
  
***  
  
Esca went back to the guest room and refused to come out.  He jammed the door shut with a broken chair that had been sitting behind the door and then sat down underneath the window sill.    
  
Looking out onto another room as it did made Esca feel as if someone was suddenly going to appear on the other side of the glass to see what he was up to.  It freaked him out.  Made him feel like he was there for observation.  The fact that he was stressed and anxious and couldn't handle being around people made it all the worse.  He needed some time to calm down and deal with the situation.  
  
He could hear Marcus and Aquila moving about the house throughout the morning.  Aquila left and came back with someone new, who left shortly after Esca refused to come out and eat lunch.    
  
By mid afternoon Esca was more worried about looking odd than dealing with Marcus though so he cut a bunch of tiny lines into the skin just below his waistline and wandered out into the house.  It felt like he was escaping.  
  
Marcus was in the lounge room with his text books spread all over the coffee table and a first person shooter paused on the television.  Esca stood in the doorway, watching him.  Afraid to interrupt.    
  
It was interesting, seeing him when he thought he was alone.  He looked more confident.  And a little bit silly.  He was writing a paper, pen in one hand, novel held open with the other.  Silently reading out what he'd written and frowning at it.  Changing the words around and then nodding at himself in approval.    
  
It was like a performance.  A very engaging one.  
  
If Esca wasn't careful, Marcus watching would become his new favourite hobby.   
  
A sound from up the hall startled Esca and he looked over to find Aquila watching him watch Marcus.  He didn't say anything.  It was kind of creepy.  He just gave Esca a look and turned to go back into his office.  
  
What did that mean?    
  
Stay away?  
  
Esca considered going back to the room, but before he could step away Marcus looked up and saw him.  
  
"Hey!  Did you sleep alright?"  Marcus smiled brightly, then he seemed to realise he'd been caught miming out the words to his English paper and waved at his books, flustered.  "I'm doing homework."  
  
Esca dropped down onto the couch beside him.  "Obviously."  Marcus thought he'd been sleeping?  He could go with that.  He nodded to the books.  "Drama?"  He said slyly.   
  
"What?"  Marcus looked at his homework as if he was trying to figure out how Esca could make that mistake, then he realised he was being teased.  "No! You!"  He made an aborted attempt to shove Esca, realising at the last second that it was a bad idea.  Esca could see it all in his face.    
  
He tried not to react though, laughing to cover the way he'd automatically flinched.  
  
Marcus dropped his pen onto the coffee table and slumped back into the couch.  "Shut up, it helps me figure out if it flows."  
  
Esca smiled.  "Ok."  They watched each other for a couple of seconds, waiting for the tension to break.  Why wasn't Marcus saying anything?  Esca fidgeted and then pointed to the game paused on the television.  "So, homework, huh."   
  
Marcus rolled his eyes.  "That's incentive."  He huffed and then pushed himself up again, heading for the kitchen.  "You must be starving, come have some lunch."  
  
Esca followed him.  
  
***  
  
Esca put off going back to the room as long as he possibly could, knowing that he was going to have trouble sleeping.  There were too many new things, too many things to think about, too many ways everything could go wrong.  Not knowing what was expected of him was also a problem.  How could he plan for things if he didn't know what was going to happen?  
  
He wanted to be prepared.  
  
It turned out that the guest they'd had over that morning had brought clothes and shoes and all sorts of things for Esca, including a secondhand uniform for Marcus' school.  So he was going to school with Marcus, that was one thing.  But Aquila had said they had things to sort out with the police.  Was that happening tomorrow as well?  
  
Esca couldn't shut his brain down and stop thinking about what Monday would bring.    
  
He curled up under the covers and lay there with his eyes closed.  But he was just as awake when Marcus knocked on his door at 7am as he'd been when he'd layed down at 11pm.  
  
He felt alert, but that wouldn't last the day.    
  
He folded some of his things - including his knife - into a shirt and buried it in the bottom of the new bag they'd given him.  It was a bad idea to carry it, but he didn't want to leave it where it he couldn't access it.  It was his.  What if Aquila decided to snoop for it?    
  
What if he needed it?    
  
He thought about taking the razor blades instead and stashing the knife somewhere in the room.  But razors were harder to explain away.  He unstacked the boxes sitting up against the wall and dropped the razors and the rest of his stuff into one at the bottom, making sure to restack them just so to avoid anyone noticing that he'd moved them.  
  
Then he dumped everything else they'd given him in a pile on the floor and arranged it so it was more difficult to tell what was there and what was not.  That way he'd know if someone had rifled through it when he got back this evening.  Not that he had any intention of doing anything about it if they did.  He just wanted to know.  
  
Marcus drove them to school, parking near the soccer fields which meant they had to walk all the way across the school to get to the main building so Esca could go to the Principal's office.  
  
"We have soccer practice this afternoon."  Marcus said, when Esca asked why they'd parked so far away.  "This way I can stumble off the field and fall in."  
  
That was fair enough.  Esca wondered how much Marcus' leg actually affected his game.  He'd seen him limp, but when he'd been on the field last game Esca hadn't noticed it.  
  
If it was bad enough to be obvious when he was running though, he probably wouldn't be playing at all.  Maybe he just had to warm up and warm down a little more conscientiously.  
  
Esca let Marcus talk to the lady at reception and went and sat on the guest chairs across the room.  There was even a convenient blind spot near the window behind a pot plant.  A real plant.    
  
Someone had just watered it.  
  
And dusted it as well.    
  
Far classier than the plastic monstrosities they'd had at his old school.  Esca wondered who was paying for him to go here.  
  
The place looked pretty swish.  Plaques and trophies adorned the walls and the chairs had turned wooden legs with good padding.  Comfy too.  Esca leant back into the cushions and watched Marcus through the leaves of the fern.    
  
He told himself there wasn't any harm in looking.  
  
The fact that he hadn't slept all night was catching up with him far quicker than he thought it would and his eyes began to droop.  He wondered why he felt like he could sleep right here, practically out in the open, when he couldn't manage it shut up in a room where nobody could get to him.  
  
He followed the sway of Marcus' hips as he moved from foot to foot. Leaning up against the counter.  Smiling at the receptionist.  Flipping through paperwork he'd acquired from who knows where.  Esca certainly hadn't given it to him.  
  
He felt like he was being hypnotised.  
  
Before he check out completely though, Marcus thanked the receptionist and turned around to locate Esca.    
  
He seemed a little bemused for a moment when Esca wasn't right behind him, but when he saw him hiding in the corner he smiled.  
  
He sauntered over.  "You're all set, they'll interview you in a bit so you get to stay here.  I have to go to class."  He pulled cash out of his pocket and reached down to take hold of Esca's hand.  "This is money from Aquila."  He folded the notes into Esca's palm as if expecting Esca to refuse it.  "It's for lunch."  He gave Esca his hand back and smiled as he backed away.    
  
Esca grimaced and slumped back into the chair.  It was twenty bucks. For lunch!  Who spent that much on lunch?    
  
He nearly leapt out of his skin when Marcus came back around the plant.  For a moment he thought he was going to take the money back because clearly it was a mistake.  But he dropped an apple into Esca's lap instead.  "And this is breakfast.  Because you didn't get up in time."  He disappeared again.  "I'll see you at practice!"  
  
Esca waited for the sound of the office door closing before he relaxed.    
  
He sighed, shoving the money into his pocket.  He was awake again.  He cleaned the apple on his sleeve and bit into it.  
  
***  
  
Esca watched the stack of tiles slide off the edge of the roof knowing that if he leapt across to try and save them he'd just go straight over the side as well.  
  
They made an unholy crashing noise as they hit the ground.    
  
Esca winced.  They were almost certainly broken.  Damnit.  It'd taken him long enough to set and fire that lot.    
  
"Esca!"  Marcus flung the door cottage door open so forcefully that it crashed against the wall.  "Esca!"  
  
Esca could hear him limping around the corner, so he layed down across the tiles and peaked over the edge.  "I'm still up here."    
  
Marcus glanced at the broken tiles, then looked up at Esca, his face sheet white.  He sighed in relief, slumping against the wall.  "I thought you'd fallen."  He ran a hand over his face.  
  
Esca shuffled to the edge and dropped down, rolling as he landed.    
  
Marcus gave him a dirty look and propped himself up on his crutch again.  "Are you going to be scaring me half to death for our entire life?"  
  
Esca smirked and sauntered closer, holding Marcus' arm as he took his crutch away.  "I know you like watching me leap about the place."  
  
Marcus tried to keep a hold of it, but Esca twisted it out of his grip and ducked under Marcus' arm instead.  
  
Marcus reluctantly let his full weight rest across Esca's shoulders.  "Not when I can't do anything to help you if you injure yourself.  I can't even walk, how would I carry you like this."  
  
Esca patted his chest and began walking them back towards the door.  "Come on, let's get you back inside.  We'll get your leg in order and you'll be running around by the afternoon."  
  
"I don't think that's happening."  Marcus said ruefully.  
  
They both looked down at his leg.    
  
It was always rougher in the colder months.  Marcus' bones would ache and his muscles would seize.  Some days the pain meant he couldn't even get out of bed.  
  
But then summer would come and the pain would fade and he'd be up every morning at the same time as Esca.  
  
He knew it still hurt Marcus' pride to have his body fail him so badly, but to Esca, that was just part of having Marcus.    
  
"Let's have a go, yeah?  And I'll wait until the neighbours come by before I go climbing on the roof again."  
  
Marcus rolled his eyes.  "There's plenty of rope, you know.  You could've just used that.  We don't have to just make do anymore."  
  
Esca gave the arm across his shoulders a reassuring squeeze.  "Ok."  
  
"Stop placating me."  Marcus snapped.  
  
Esca smiled.  "Ok."  
  
They shuffled back inside and over to the couch.    
  
Leaving Marcus sitting down with his leg propped up on the footstool, Esca retrieved the pot of salve from the kitchen and the hot rocks from beside the fireplace.  He gently lifted Marcus' leg, taking a seat on the footstool and laying Marcus' leg across his own.  Wrapping one of the rocks in cloth, he pressed it to Marcus' thigh.   
  
Marcus let his head fall back, hissing in pain.  "If I didn't know better I'd think you were torturing me."  He said through clenched teeth.  
  
Esca began trailing the fingers of his other hand along the underside of Marcus' knee.  "Tell me of your uncle's plans."  
  
Marcus let his head fall back against the cushions and tried not to flinch away from Esca's hands.  "He's coming by at the end of this month."    
  
Esca continued to work on the muscles of Marcus' thigh, using the rocks to get some heat into his leg, then using his fingers to knead the knots and tension out of it.  He continued prompting Marcus to talk, distracting him from the pain.  
  
Every day, he did this.  Even when Marcus protested and said it wasn't needed.    
  
Some days it didn't take long, some days Esca's hands and arms ached before he'd made any progress.  But he chose to do it anyway.  
  
At first because it was required of him, then because he wanted to help.  Then there was that brief period where he thought it would be the only way he would ever be able to touch Marcus at all.  
  
Now it was a part of their life, and a part of having Marcus.  Though that didn't stop Esca from using it as an excuse to get his hands all over him.  
  
They had too much work to do today for it to lead anywhere that morning, but Esca still laid a kiss on his hipbone as he finished, and then crawled on top of him so they could cuddle.  
  
Marcus laced their fingers together and gently massaged the palms of Esca's hands.  
  
"You need to wake up, Esca.  You can't stay here all day."  
  
Esca frowned.  "I'm not even sleeping."  
  
"Yes, you are."  
  
***  
  
Esca opened his eyes.  
  
Marcus was gone.  
  
Their cottage was gone.  
  
Esca was sitting on a wooden chair, at a desk, surrounded by bizarrely dressed people, all of whom were listening to the woman standing up the front of the room who was gesturing to symbols on a board and speaking in a language Esca couldn't understand.  
  
A siren wailed and Esca clapped his hands over his ears, leaping to his feet with the rest of the students and getting ready to fight.  
  
He startled a couple of people and they looked at him oddly as they followed everyone else out the door.  They didn't seem concerned about the alarm that had just been rung.    
  
What was going on?  
  
"Esca!"  
  
He swung around at the sound of his name.  It was the woman.  She rattled off a string of words.  He stared at her blankly.  
  
She sighed heavily and pointed to the books sitting on the table he'd left behind.  She smiled at him before leaving.  
  
All the rest of the tables were bare.  
  
Esca sat down again.  
  
He closed his eyes and concentrated.  Taking a deep breath, he could smell chalk dust and new books.  He looked down at the papers in front of him.    
  
He was in English.  School was over.    
  
Marcus was on the soccer pitch and would be waiting for him.  
  
Esca ignored the blackness that stole his vision when he stood up too fast.  He held onto the edge of the desk while he waited for the dizziness to pass and then stuffed everything into his back pack and headed out.   
  
The hallway was a cacophony of raised voices and slamming lockers.  People pushed passed him when he didn't dodge around them fast enough.  
  
He found an exit and took.  Too relieved to be outside and away from everyone to care that he'd come out on the wrong side and was going to have to walk all the way around the building to get back to the car park.  When he finally found it, he jogged across the it, evading cars and impatient people who were far too ready to be gone.  There were nearly as many milling about and wandering towards the sports fields though.  Staying instead of going.  Soccer apparently wasn't the only extra curricular held this afternoon.  
  
There was a low fence separating the gravel car park from the grassy sports fields and Esca didn't bother to slow down as he approached, instead, hurdling over it and continuing over towards the soccer goals where the team was already gathered.  
  
Esca could see Marcus warming up.  He was a head taller than everybody else which made him easy to spot.  If Marcus hadn't been there he didn't know whether he would've bothered to approach.  
  
The grass had just been mown and the smell of it had Esca itching to get out there and start running around.  He hadn't trained for a couple of weeks, even though he'd played games for his old team and he actually kind of missed it.  
  
He was pleased to see all the cones set up for drills and two bags of soccer balls sitting off to the side.  The coach didn't seem to be there yet though, the players were just standing around talking to each other and stretching.  
  
Esca slowed to a walk as he approached, waiting for Marcus to notice him.  
  
He recognised a lot of them, even if he didn't know their names.  Centre forward, the goalie, the two strikers and the guy that always kicked the corner penalties.  Some of them looked over at him warily, obviously recognising him but unable to identify him without the proper context.  
  
He tried to smile, knowing that it was odd to get a new team member part way through the season.  He didn't even know if the coach was going to let him play.  Maybe he'd spend the first couple of games benched.  
  
Esca nearly had a heart attack when a hand thumped down on his shoulder.  He was pushed towards the crowd of guys, fingers wrapped around his collarbone.  This guy was huge.     
  
The owner of the hand gave him a bit a shake and then released him.  "Esca MacCunoval!"  
  
Esca stumbled away.  He could hear some of the guys laughing at him and he very pointedly didn't acknowledge them.  He stared up at the guy who'd grabbed him instead.  
  
The man was basically a mountain.  A big and hairy mountain.  He didn't look like a soccer player at all.  Football, maybe, but not soccer.  Maybe he'd been slighter when he was younger.  He was holding a clipboard and from the way he commanded attention from the group of boys, he was very clearly the team coach.  
  
"You all remember Esca from last Friday?"  The coach looked around at his team.  "He was the one going for broke and leaving you lot in the dust."  
  
Esca winced a bit.  Did the guy want the team beating him up?  Did he have no perception of how people tended to vent their frustration when somebody humiliated them?  
  
"Thank fuck he's decided to come play for us."    
  
The team laughed.  
  
The coach glared at them.  "None of you lot heard me say that.  Now start running."  He threw a shirt at Esca.  "Go get changed up kid, ask Guern for a spare set of boots."  
  
Esca threw himself into the training session, pushing himself until he fell into the rhythm of it and stopped feeling the weight of sleep pulling at his consciousness.    
  
He partnered up with Marcus until the coach noticed Esca running circles around him every single time.  Then he was forced to change it up every five minutes and he did his drills with guys who weren't afraid to check him or push him or ‘accidentally' hit him.  
  
Esca shook it off.  This was the game.  He could handle it.  He just put his head down and went for it.  It was fun proving to them that he was better and faster than they were.   
  
They finished up with a short game, running through plays, and matching Esca up with different people to see where he was going to be best.  He made a point of not hogging the ball simply because any time he made a run with it the opposite side converged on him leaving the field open for whoever he passed it to.  
  
It was not a very productive game.  
  
The guys had warmed to him, especially some of the younger players who'd scored goal's when Esca set them up.  But he still decided not to shower.  He didn't want to strip in front of people while he was still so bruised.  It made people look at him funny.    
  
Then there were the scars across his stomach.  There were a lot of them now and they were really obvious at the moment because he'd cut so many times recently.  It would be better to wait until they'd healed up a bit.  
  
And to wait until being trapped naked in a shower block was a hazier memory.  Not that he thought that was going to happen again any time soon considering Marcus was right there and wouldn't let anything happen to him.  If he could help it.    
  
Esca was having reservations about Marcus' ability to judge a person's character though.  He seemed to think replacing Esca's shitty team mates with his own was a good thing.  Esca wondered if Marcus was one of those people who couldn't manage to spot the bad in anyone.  
  
After five minutes spent leaning up against the side of Marcus car, out in the open with nobody else around, Esca started to feel a bit antsy.  The air was cooling down fast, the sun was creeping towards the horizon and the idea of being somewhere cold and dark in a place he didn't know bothered him.    
  
He considered heading back to the office so he could wait where there were other people, but that seemed kind of silly because Marcus couldn't seriously take too much longer.  But a couple of minutes later he wished he had because then he wouldn't be sitting out there, alone in the car park, without Marcus.    
  
A prime target for a bunch of pissed off guys in the mood for bullying.  
  
His new team mates hemmed him in.  
  
Why hadn't he run, again?    
  
Oh, that's right, Marcus.    
  
And where was he?    
  
Not here.  
  
Esca glared at them.  
  
How much worse could it get?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I had it all ready to post day by day and then I had a huge art project dumped in my lap. Not making promises for when the next chapter will be up, but it's on it's way.

They didn't touch him.  Which surprised Esca.  He was expecting to be jostled and shoved, for fists to be jammed into sensitive areas in order to quietly disable him.  
  
But they didn't.  If he tried to get away, maybe they would, but standing still kept them at bay. There was degree of caution in the way they'd arranged themselves, a couple clearly keeping an eye out for anyone who might see them, but otherwise it was a lazy semi circle.  It didn't stop Esca from feeling threatened.  
  
Placidus stepped forward until he was toe to toe with Esca and looked down on him.  Esca glared up at him stoically.  This was the guy that Marcus had called a bit of a dick. Team captain, pretty guy, good on the field and genuinely encouraging in a backhanded kind of way.    
  
"So, Esca," he sounded friendly despite the sneer.  "What's your play here?  Why the transfer?"  
  
Esca didn't say anything.  He didn't have a play.  He was just along for the ride because he was incapable of saying no to Marcus.  Clearly Placidus was the type to have motive behind anything he did and believed everybody else to be the same.    
  
Esca tried to think of something semi convincing that would satisfy Placidus and get him to back off, but it was probably easier to stay silent and let Placidus come up with something on his own.  That way there would be less of a battle trying to convince him it was true.  
  
"What's the bet?  What dumb thing are you guys trying to do to Marcus now? What do you think you're even going to get out of it?  Do you find it funny?  Playing with him?"    
  
Esca frowned, remembering what Marcus had said about the car crash he'd been in.  Of course his team mates knew about that.  Esca felt sick.  It was a terrible idea coming here.  Why had Marcus made it seem so reasonable?  
  
Esca wanted to say something that would stop them from associating him with his old team but he didn't know what he could say.  
  
Placidus leant in closer, clearly noticing Esca's discomfort and pushing his advantage.  "I mean, we couldn't really think of anything that could possibly be worse than what you've already managed, yet here you are, taking advantage of him and his thing for you.  What are you up to?  How did you even get him to invite you to his house?"  
  
Esca scowled, unable to answer that either.  How did one explain that they'd been dragged inside like a lost puppy and not sound completely pathetic. Esca didn't want anyone finding out, ever.  It was bad enough that Marcus knew.  
  
It made him freeze inside.  He struggled to say something.  Anything.  Ideally he would've liked to throw Placidus' accusations in his face and put him off guard.  Wrong foot him in some way.  But words never came to mind when Esca needed them and he knew that denying that he was up to something would get him nowhere.    
  
And how the fuck did he know that Esca was staying with Marcus?  
  
Placidus smirked and stepped closer again.  The fact that he hadn't gotten anything at all out of Esca not worrying him in the least.    
  
Unless he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.  
  
Esca startled as Placidus grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed him up against the side of the car. He struggled bringing his arms up to defend himself, but Placidus didn't even acknowledge his flailing, just pushing in closer and pinning him.  Twisting Esca's shirt until it edged upwards and Esca could feel the wind wafting across his exposed belly.  He froze and hoped no one noticed the scars and dried blood.  
  
Placidus tilted his head, leaning into Esca, looking him directly in the eye.  Then he twisted the front of Esca's shirt a little more and casually glanced downwards.  
  
At first Esca thought it was a come on.  Hoped, maybe.  But it wasn't.  He saw the surprise, the puzzlement, the realisation, and the disgust roll across his face.  Placidus could see the damage Esca had done to himself this morning.  He knew.  Or maybe suspected and had now just confirmed it.  
  
"Well then."  He whispered.  "That's far more interesting than I thought."  
  
Esca hadn't felt so terrified in a long, long time.  
  
People weren't supposed to know.  It was something he didn't want anybody to know.  It was how he coped.  How he managed to face the world.  But it was the kind of thing that people got 'concerned' about.  Or sent you off to the psychiatric ward for.  
  
The kind of thing that made people think you were mad.  
  
The kind of thing that people used against you.  
  
Placidus shoved him as he stepped away.  Esca could only stare at him in fear.  Was he going to tell everyone?  Did everyone already know?  
  
He broke Placidus' gaze and glanced around at everybody else.  They were glaring, a few people looking uncomfortable, but Placidus had been in pretty close.  His body would've blocked Esca's tiny frame.  
  
"We don't like your team, and we don't like you."  Placidus nodded to the group and they headed off to their cars. "Don't screw us over."  He came in close again, digging his thumb into Esca's hip and whispered in his ear.  "It won't be a beating you get from us if you do, it'll be much, much worse."  
  
Esca wanted to throw up.  He could feel Placidus' hot breath on his neck, even after he'd gone.  He folded his arms across his chest and willed the queasiness away.  
  
***  
  
When Marcus approached the car ten minutes later he seemed surprised and relieved to find Esca there.  As if he wasn't expecting to find Esca there at all.  
  
Esca studied him warily, wondering if he'd had anything to do with the group threat he'd just endured.  He couldn't help it.  He was too used to distrusting people.  But then Marcus smiled at him and somehow Esca just knew that he wasn't hiding anything.  
  
It was bizarre.  Esca tried to second guess himself as he studied Marcus' face.  He tried to convince himself that there was no way he could know Marcus well enough to interpret his expressions, but Marcus' face, the curve of cheek, the slope of his nose, the lilt to his mouth, the way he stood a little off kilter, it all seemed so familiar.  
  
Esca ducked his head and looked at the ground fighting the urge to smile.  He'd been standing there just staring at Marcus.    
  
And Marcus had been staring back.  
  
"Where were you?"  Marcus unlocked the car but didn't move around to the driver's side until Esca opened the passenger side door.  "I thought you'd decided to leave."    
  
Esca rolled his eyes as he slumped into the car seat and shoved his bag down between his feet.  Here, obviously.  He was here.  Here being bullied by a whole new set of people.  People who now had more ammunition to fire at him than anyone he'd ever known.    
  
He panicked again for a moment because what if they got him locked up?  What if they thought he was insane for hurting himself?  What if they told Marcus and Marcus decided that it was for Esca's own good that he get psychiatric help and they drugged him up and stuck him in some institution and he spent the rest of his life too high to realise that he was somewhere he never ever wanted to be.  Because that's what good people who were trying to help did.  
  
He wasn't insane.  He didn't need help.  He knew it wasn't right, what he did to himself.  But he wasn't insane.  He was just...coping.  It was helping him cope.  He was dealing with it.  On his own.  Like he dealt with everything.  
  
Except he wasn't on his own.  Not right now.  
  
Esca watched Marcus circle the car, popping the boot so he could dump his stuff before hopping into the driver's seat.  
  
He wasn't on his own because Marcus was dragging him around the place.  
  
And it looked like he was going to keep him.  
  
If Esca didn't do something stupid, or Marcus' team didn't interfere.  
  
"I waited for you in the lockers," Marcus said as he started the car, but he dropped his hands into his lap and looked over at Esca instead of putting it in gear as if he'd just realised why Esca might've skipped out on the shower.  
  
Esca pulled a face.  
  
"Oh."  Marcus turned to reverse out of the car space, then stopped again."You probably didn't want to...are you sure?  Because we've got to go to the police station."  
  
Esca scowled and shook his head.  
  
He'd survive.  If anything he hoped that they'd let him go faster if he was stinking up their interview room.  
  
He was silent for the rest of the drive.  
  
***  
  
The police station was hell.  The first officer he dealt with clearly thought he was some kind of delinquent and seeing himself in the mirror across from the desk he was sitting at, Esca really couldn't blame her.  
  
His hair was sticking up all over the place making him look a bit like a cockatoo.  He had bruising down the side of his face that was coming up nice and blue.  And he'd quickly changed out of his soccer shirt before following Marcus into the station and was only now realising that it had blood around the hem from where it'd been tucked into his pants this morning and he couldn't tuck it into his soccer shorts to hide it.  
  
They asked him about the items he'd been accused of stealing.  They asked him why he'd run away.  They asked him about his foster parents and changing schools and a whole tonne of things that Esca didn't think were at all relevant.  They pressed him for answers and bullied him until he froze up and couldn't answer anything at all.  
  
And when he stopped talking they left him there on his own until he started thinking they were just going to keep him until he gave in.  
  
He hunched down in his chair, avoiding the mirror and hoping that Marcus hadn't given up on him.  Had they sent him home or was he waiting outside? Esca got up and tried the door.    
  
It was locked.  
  
He sat down again, feeling sick.  
  
He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door finally opened.  An older officer bustled in, dumping paperwork on the desk and pulling a pen out of her pocket.  
  
She looked about as tired as Esca felt.  
  
"You're a right pain, kid.  Why you can't just answer questions, I don't know."  She dropped into the chair opposite Esca and smiled crookedly, chuckling at Esca's startled expression.  "Don't look at me like that, I've had too much coffee.  I should be home with my family not working.  Damned Aquila.  Let's hurry this up so we can both get out of here."  
  
She guided Esca through the forms, made him sign his statements and got Esca to write down descriptions of the ‘stolen objects' so they could compare them to that of his foster parent's.  
  
"Though it'd be helpful to have a picture of them if you've got any of them on you right now.  That way we can catch them in the lie if they choose the wrong picture out of a bunch of them."  
  
Esca thought about that for a moment before shaking his head.  There was no way he was admitting to carrying a weapon to school.  
  
The officer sighed heavily before nodding and picking up her papers.  "Well, if you can get a photo to me as soon as possible it would be helpful."  She tapped the folder on the desk, then indicated the door as she stood up.  "Go.  I think your friend is sick of waiting."  She held the door open for Esca, nodding to the officer standing outside.    
  
Esca scrambled to his feet.  He kept his eyes lowered as he ducked past her and headed for the bench where he'd left Marcus.  He could feel her watching him all the way down the hallway and glanced back just before he turned the corner.  She was frowning at him.    
  
What did it mean?  Should he have handed his possessions over?  Would they have given them back?  Would they have just taken them away and then that would be that?  
  
He had a feeling that she knew he'd been lying about not having his stuff with him.  How badly would that hurt his chances of convincing them that he was in the right?  
  
Marcus was slumped down in his chair, so fixated on the game he was playing on his phone that it took him a couple of seconds before he realised Esca was standing next to him.    
  
"Esca!"  He leapt to his feet, nearly dropping his phone as he stumbled, having to reach for the wall to steady himself.  He hissed in pain and bit his bottom lip.  
  
Esca took a step back, startled.  
  
Marcus smiled tightly.  "Are you done?  Can we go?"  
  
Esca nodded, waiting for Marcus to lead the way.  
  
He didn't.  
  
It was curious, watching the emotions play across Marcus face.  Seeing him suddenly look so completely vulnerable, followed by determined, mild panic, and then acute embarrassment.  Esca wanted to run, he didn't want to deal with this.  But the realisation that he could read Marcus left Esca with such a warm, uplifting buzz in his mid section that the urge to smile was overwhelming, and the urge to move in closer even more so.  How could he know Marcus so well already?  
  
He didn't smile though.  It would be inappropriate.  "The leg?"  He asked.  
  
Marcus winced and nodded.  "I didn't warm down properly."  They stood there looking at each other awkwardly.  
  
Esca fished around for something to say.  "Do you want a hand?"    
  
Marcus shook his head.  "Nope, I'm good."  He clearly wasn't.  
  
Esca left it for a little longer and then decided to take a chance.  He could feel his mouth drying up, and his skin getting hot.  His face was probably turning bright red.  His hands were sweating.  He stepped in closer to Marcus.  
  
"Let me help."  Esca swallowed, tucking his shoulder under Marcus' arm and wrapping his hand around his waist.    
  
He could feel Marcus looking down at him.  Feel his surprise in the way held his body.    
  
Esca couldn't look up.  It was too intense.  "Just don't lean on me too much.  You're fucking heavy."  
  
That at least broke the tension.  Marcus laughed and relaxed into him.  Esca had to stop himself from twisting around and moulding himself against Marcus' body though.  He was warm, and the smell of him was so much stronger than what had been caught in the layers of clothes he'd been lent.  It was almost like a hug.  He could feel Marcus breathing.  It was like the dreams that kept haunting him.  
  
Esca dug his fingers into Marcus' hip a little, concentrating on getting them moving.  
  
He could see it.  
  
Bright white stone.  
  
He could smell the garden and the animals and the freshly turned earth.  
  
Any second now Marcus was going to lean in and kiss the side of his head.  
  
Esca's lungs were burning and it took him a couple of seconds to realise he was holding his breath.  He released it slowly, staring at the linoleum, the wooden door, the frosted glass.  
  
Marcus didn't kiss him, he didn't even pull him in closer.  
  
They passed their exit off as more of companionable shuffle than walking wounded and Esca was both desperate to get away and incredibly reluctant to let go of him when they made it to the car.  
  
"Are you going to be ok to drive?  Because I can't.  I don't know how."  
  
Marcus rolled his eyes and gave him a small shove as he released him.  "I'm fine, I just had to walk it off."  He unlocked the car and climbed in.  
  
As soon as the car was started, Esca tucked his feet up under him and folded his hands into the sleeves of his jacket.  He was cold again.  Even more so now that he wasn't pressed up against Marcus' side.    
  
Marcus glanced over at him, but didn't say anything.  He flicked the heater on high though and turned the fan all the way up.  
  
Esca could see him smiling every time he glanced over on the way home.  
  
***  
  
Esca couldn't sleep.  
  
He'd nearly dropped off during the middle of dinner and had gone to bed early.  But he still couldn't sleep.  
  
Maybe it was the room.  
  
Maybe it was because sleep brought confusion.    
  
Maybe it was because it hurt too much to wake up.  
  
He lay awake, listening to the sounds of the house, waiting for his eyes to droop and exhaustion to take him out. When his eyes burned, he closed them.  But his mind didn't shut down.  
  
He lay there, trapped, until Marcus came and knocked on his door at seven.  
  
Esca smiled when Marcus made jokes about the dead rising.  He ate his breakfast even though it tasted like dust and he could barely swallow.  And he stayed awake through the car ride to school even though it was the closest to falling asleep he'd managed since nearly falling face first into his potatoes the night before.  
  
The day might've looked more daunting if he had more energy to worry about it.  As it was, he had just enough concentration to misdirect Marcus' attentions and navigate his way to his first classroom.  
  
He dozed through nearly all his classes, then escaped to the library for his study period and fell asleep in a corner of the reference section.  
  
***  
  
The air was warm and stuffy, clinging to his skin, getting caught in his nose and making it difficult to breathe.  He could feel straw poking into his back, his boots were still on, and every few seconds he got a good whiff of compost.  
  
Something was tugging gently at his hair.  Brushing against his forehead.  Pressing softly against his temple.  
  
Esca cracked a bleary eye open.  "Marcus?"  
  
Mid morning sunlight was streaming through the window on the far side of the barn.  The lamb curled up on the hay next to Esca's head gave his hair another taste test.  Esca pushed it away, jumping slightly when it protested by baaing loudly in his ear.  
  
He heard Marcus laughing.  
  
"You are such an arse!"  He tried to sit up, dislodging the lamb that had curled up in his lap last night.  It rolled away and then stumbled to it's feet, tottering back towards him and joining in the cry for food.  It's little hooves dug into his legs and it's tiny head butted up against his chest and hands.  "I don't have milk, lambies."  He turned them around and pushed them towards the ewe in the corner then crawled over to hold her head so she couldn't knock them away.  
  
He got them situated at her udder and then leaned against the fence, watching their tails waggle back and forth as they drank their breakfast like it was the last meal they were ever going to get.  
  
Marcus' feet scraped against the dirt floor as he walked past.  "Is she still rejecting them?"  He poured a bucket of water into the trough, then wandered over to rest against the fence behind Esca, reaching over and stroking the side of Esca's face where the lamb had been testing him for edibility.  
  
"Yeah."  Esca closed his eyes again.  "They fed three times last night though."  Marcus palm was warm against his cheek.  
  
He stroked his thumb down Esca's nose.  "You slept here?"  
  
Esca grunted, yawning.  "That wasn't exactly on purpose, and it's not like you were in bed anyway.  Here was as good as anywhere."  He reached up to twist his fingers into the bottom edge of Marcus shirt in case he had any thoughts about going away.  "How'd the patrol go?"  
  
Marcus shifted so he was standing on his good leg.  "There have been raids further north, but nothing close enough for us to worry about.  There'll be a lot of foxes this year."  
  
Esca nodded.  "We were expecting that.  There were so many mice."  He turned to the lambs.  "You hear that, stay indoors or you'll get yourselves eaten."  
  
Marcus laughed at him.  "You're so tired."  He dislodged Esca's fingers from his shirt and threaded their fingers together instead.  "How about we get you inside to a real bed."  
  
Esca smiled at him lazily.  "You want me even after I've slept in the sheep pen.  That's love."  
  
Marcus hauled him to his feet and kissed him.  "Yep."  
  
Esca stretched his back out and then dropped his arms around Marcus neck, using him for leverage as he swung his leg up over the fence so he could climb over.  Before he could drop down on the other side though, Marcus tucked his arm underneath Esca's knees and lifted him into his arms, cradling him against his chest.  
  
Esca buried his face in his shoulder, laughing.  He was so, so very tired.  He could stay like this forever.  He inhaled deeply, smelling the leather, sweat and horse that clung to Marcus' shirt and skin.  They should probably bathe.  It was a good bet he smelled much worse than Marcus did, since he was the one that had spent the night with the animals.  
  
Marcus swayed a little, nosing at the top of Esca's head.  
  
Esca smiled.  "This is fun and all, but you can't walk anywhere with me like this."  
  
"I can try."  Marcus dug his fingers into Esca's ribs, making him squirm.  
  
Esca laughed again.  "Please don't.  I can't even lift you.  I'd have to drape you over my shoulder, or roll you."  
  
Marcus kissed him.    
  
They both needed a shave.  Esca scratched the underside of Marcus' chin letting the stubble catch beneath his fingernails.    
  
It made Marcus shiver.  "I'm going to put you down now."  He murmured.  "And we're going to pretend I carried you all the way to the house."  He kissed Esca again.  "And all the way to our bed."  He pulled Esca tight against him.  "And I'm going to make love to you."  
  
"Whatever you like, love."  Esca trailed his fingers down the side of Marcus' neck.  "Only can we not pretend that last bit and instead do it for real."  
  
Marcus nearly dropped him, trying not to laugh.  He let go of Esca's legs so he could wrap both arms around Esca's chest instead.  "Yeah.  We can do that."  
  
***  
  
Esca opened his eyes and saw the ceiling of their house.  
  
He opened his eyes and saw Marcus.  
  
He opened his eyes and saw someone who was not.  
  
Then there wasn't anybody.  
  
He could hear voices discussing Esca this, Esca that.  He wondered if he was sick.  Delirium.  He felt sick.  His head felt like a rock.  The back of his head was throbbing.  He reached up to run his fingers over it, it was tender to the touch.  Had someone attacked him?  
  
"Marcus, somebody hit me."  
  
Warm hands wrapped around his wrists pulling his hands back down.  Marcus was back.  "Here, let me see."  He gently turned Esca's head to the side.  "It's from the other night, Esca.  Did you bump it again?"  
  
"I don't remember.  I don't feel well."  
  
Somebody else was standing behind him.  They snorted.  "Well, at least he's speaking English now.  Are you sure he didn't have a concussion?  He's pretty out of it."  
  
"What did he say when you woke him up?"  Marcus hauled Esca to his feet.  
  
Esca leaned into him, but instead of arms enfolding him, he got a hand on the shoulder, steadying him, but pushing him away.  Esca looked around himself, bewildered.  
  
"No idea.  Where's he from?  Scotland?  Maybe it was Gaelic."  It was a male voice.  "Are you sure he isn't just really sick?  I asked my dad about the bruises and he said Esca didn't say anything to the police about it, he didn't react to any of the questions they asked him.  You should take him to a doctor."  
  
"He's not sick."  Marcus passed Esca a bag.  His bag.  With Esca's things in it.  "He can run circles around our whole soccer team and just looks more energetic afterwards."  
  
"He wouldn't be running circles around you if his fucking team hadn't fucked you over."  He hissed, pulling Marcus away.  
  
It was Placidus.  There was something wrong with that.  
  
Esca watched them argue, trying to hold onto the words.  They were so slippery.  And sounded so strange.  They didn't sit right in his head.  The rhythm was wrong.  
  
"I don't get you."  Placidus was angry.  "Why are you so determined to believe he didn't have any part in it?"  
  
"Because he didn't."  Marcus said.  "There were four guys in that truck and none of them were Esca.  There's no way I wouldn't have recognised him."  
  
"Oh, I know."  Placidus smiled grimly.  "I bet he was cheering just the same as them when he heard though."  
  
Marcus shook his head.  "He didn't even know.  Not until I told him."  
  
"And what did he do when you did?  Run away?"  Placidus rolled his eyes.  
  
Marcus lowered his head.  "You didn't see him, Placidus.  They locked him in the shower block in the middle of winter with nothing.  He would've frozen to death.  Who does that?"  
  
Placidus glanced over at Esca, biting his lip.  "You saw how scarred up he was then?"  
  
"Scars?  He'd just been attacked.  He was bleeding."  
  
Esca glared.  Marcus shouldn't be talking to Placidus.  He knew things Esca didn't want Marcus to know.  He moved closer, startling Marcus into looking up.  
  
Placidus glared back.  
  
"Is féidir linn dul abhaile."  
  
They both looked at him blankly.  Placidus turned back to Marcus.  "He's broken again."  
  
Marcus pushed him out of the way.  "C'mon Esca."


	6. Chapter 6

Marcus kept looking at Esca in concern as they navigated their way out of the school building. Down hallways, across the quad, up some stairs, through another building.

Esca didn't recognise any of it. He kept his head down and tried to stay a step behind so he could follow Marcus instead of trying to anticipate which direction he needed to go next. 

His ears were ringing. There was too much noise. Bells, people yelling, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum, doors slamming.

Esca knew he wasn't breathing properly. He kept having to remind himself to exhale. He was panicking. The world felt small. The black was encroaching on his vision.

Walking felt heavy.

He was so tired. So, so tired.

And this place wasn't safe.

Sunlight blinded him as they walked out into the car park. He hid in Marcus' shadow, following him to the car.

Esca fumbled with the door, managing to tug it open only just far enough to slide in. He pulled it shut behind him, muffling the screams of the kids stuffing around and yelling at each other. It sounded like something else entirely.

Safe.

Esca tried to relax. He pushed his back pack to the floor and curled into the car seat. His head fell back against the head rest and he exhaled. The air was stuffy. Hot. He shivered.

He clenched his fingers in the fabric of his trousers. He dug his fingernails into the side of his thighs. He bit his lip. 

He was injuring himself. Skin pinched. He could feel it breaking. Could feel it burning as he ground the fabric against his leg.

The world slowly became clearer. Grounded. 

The driver door opened.

Esca snatched his hands back. He rolled the edges of his sleeves over his hands and tucked his fists beneath his arms.

Marcus dropped into the driver's seat.

Esca tried to focus. 

Marcus put the keys in the ignition, but didn't start the car.

Esca put his seat belt on anyway.

"Are you ok, Esca?" 

Esca didn't think so. There was something wrong. Was it just because he was so tired? He wasn't sure he'd ever gone this long with so little sleep.

He didn't think it was that though. He was hallucinating. 

Could you hallucinate while you were sleeping?

Dreaming in vivid detail.

About a fucking farm.

Where did all the knowledge come from though? Esca knew shit about farming. He grew up in the city.

It was so confusing. 

And why Marcus?

Esca rolled his head to the side so he could look him in the eyes.

They were a browny green, his face was much, much younger. He had the mole on his forehead and the one beneath his eye. He was missing the funny gap in his left eyebrow though. And there was no scar under his chin. 

What had Esca's mind invented and what had he taken from memory? It was weird to look at a face and know all the details without having spent the time memorising it.

And also to see it significantly older, especially when Marcus was so young in comparison.

Esca could feel himself breathing easier even though Marcus' familiar face was pinched with worry and uncertainty.

"I think I'm going a little bit mental from lack of sleep." Esca said, quietly. He screwed his face up and folded himself further back into the seat, waiting to see what Marcus' response to that would be. He was at a strange point. He wanted to tell Marcus all the bizarre dreams he'd been having. Just not this Marcus.

Because that would be a really creepy thing to hear from someone.

Marcus fidgeted in the seat beside him. "What?" His voice sounded a little strangled.

"Ní féidir liom codladh.... Fuck." Esca shook his head. He marvelled at the fluency with which the words rolled off his tongue. It was kind of amazing. And bizarre. He had a feeling he'd kind of mangled the sentence though. He tried again, hoping for English. "I dream. I'm not sleeping."

Marcus cleared his throat, averting his eyes. "You were sleeping in the Library, though. Placidus said you wouldn't wake up."

Esca frowned. What had he done? Moaned in his sleep? Exactly how long had Placidus been with him before Marcus showed up? "And what else did Placidus say?" He wouldn't have said anything about Esca's injuries, he'd been looking too shifty when he'd asked Marcus about the scars for that to be the case. Probably insults.

Marcus scratched his chin and grimaced. "He said you were speaking in a foreign language." Marcus hedged. "Like just now."

Well, if he'd been speaking in a foreign language then at least Placidus had no chance of understanding whatever the hell Esca had been saying. Which was likely very porny things or harmless farm updates. 

"It's probably my parents language." Esca said, hoping Marcus would take the hint and stop asking questions.

It was a reasonable explanation, but Esca had no idea whether that was true. It probably wasn't, considering the dreams. But he'd heard of that before, where kids spoke languages during their sleep from way back in their past even when they were incapable of speaking it when they were awake.

It was a far better explanation than, ‘Hey! I think we're both reincarnated! I hooked up with you, we lived on a farm together and raised sheep. Oh, and we had lot's of sex. Lot's of sex, like, so much. Do you want to try that now? You're cute.'

Reincarnation wasn't something he'd ever consider being possible, but it was what Esca was leaning towards. His sense of self was splitting, or melding maybe. He knew his current self and he could feel a distinct otherness when he was dreaming. And not just because he was apparently happy back then.

"What language did your parents speak?" Marcus was clearly terrible at taking hints.

Esca sighed. "I don't know, my parents are dead."

Marcus looked chagrined. "Right, sorry." He fiddled with his key chain. "Do you want food or do you want to go straight home?"

Esca didn't really want to do either. He buried his face in his hands, snorting into his palms and trying to get a hold of himself. "I really don't know. I'm tired and hungry. I can't sleep. I feel like I have rocks sitting on my chest. I don't have the energy to figure it out."

Marcus reached across and wrapped his hand around the back of Esca's neck, rubbing his thumb along the edge of Esca's hairline. 

Esca stilled.

On the one hand, Esca wanted to let himself be pulled sideways, to have Marcus reel him into a hug. He wanted to press his face up against Marcus shoulder and hold onto him for just a little while.

Then he could sleep; even the thought of it made him breathe easier. 

In his dreams, that is how it would happen.

On the other hand, the feel and weight of fingers wrapped around his neck made his skin crawl. It was like being pinned down and controlled. Restrained. Trapped.

Esca shivered and flinched away a little. Both relieved and sad when Marcus pulled away and curled his hands into his lap instead.

"Ok, let's go pick up burgers then." Marcus smiled nervously at him. He reached for the gearstick and started the car.

Esca flopped back in his seat. "That sounds like a terrible idea, I don't want to be trapped in a restaurant."

Marcus shrugged. "So we'll get take away."

"I don't want to go back to your place yet." Esca grumbled.

Marcus laughed. "So we'll go somewhere else." He smiled like he was holding secrets. "It's awesome food, trust me."

With Marcus looking at him like that, there was no way Esca could say no.

***

Marcus took him to a lake.

It was part of the protected parklands owned by the parks and wildlife preservation society. Esca had been to the park plenty of times, but he'd never bothered to go up to the lake because you had to walk too far into the reserve to get to it. He'd never had any reason to go. And you know, unpoliced park lands sounded like a pretty dodgy place to go on your own.

He was expecting Marcus to lead him over to one of the shelters or to lay claim to one of the park benches dotted around the place, but they ended up on blankets down near the rocky shore where they could sit amongst the grass and stare out over the water.

Clearly Marcus had been here a lot. He hadn't looked around for a good spot, he'd taken Esca straight there.

Esca wondered if this was somewhere he went with his mates or whether he came here alone. How did he know about this place? How often did he come up here? Why was he showing Esca?

Esca wanted to ask but Marcus was looking closed off and nervous, like he was worried Esca was going to tell him that it was still a bad idea and that he wanted to leave.

Esca couldn't figure out how to tell him that it wasn't so he relaxed back against the rocks and pulled his burger out of it's paper bag, nodding at Marcus when he looked over.

Marcus smiled at him, then ducked his head.

Was this a test? Had Esca just passed? Why was Marcus so concerned about Esca liking this location?

They sat in companionable silence as they ate their food, watching the trees in the distance and the ducks mucking about in the water. Esca could feel the tension leaching out of his system.

He didn't know why he found it so appealing, maybe it was residual feelings of home he was holding onto post dream. If it wasn't for the sound of traffic off in the distance he could pretend he was back there, that Cub was around somewhere sniffing about.

That when they'd finished eating he could curl up against Marcus and nap in the sun.

He hated how scared and ill that idea made him feel when his memories of it were so comforting. It was weird to long for something and be so afraid of it at the same time.

It was strange that he was remembering it all really, that the dreams were staying with him instead of fading after he woke. It was like some other Esca was being jammed into his skin and trying to take up space. Would the dream feelings eventually outstrip his own? Or would he be left in this in between state of wanting and not wanting. 

Was this what going crazy felt like?

***

Esca wasn't sleeping.

Nearly, though.

He could sense the world around him. He knew Marcus was right there beside him, he could hear the scratch of pen against paper and the occasional turn of a page. He could also hear the whisper of words which meant that Marcus was probably miming reading his essay aloud again.

It was that halfway stage, where you were comfortable and resting and your limbs were too heavy to move, but your mind hadn't quite shut down.

Esca didn't want to dream.

Here was quite fine.

The air was still, heavy with moisture and heat from the sun. The low hum of insects carried on in the background, subsiding every time a breeze came past, then cautiously starting up again afterwards. The sun filtered down through the trees, blinding one moment, hidden the next. 

Esca startled when he felt a hand slide gently underneath his wrist. He stilled and let himself relax again though because it was just Marcus, it had to be Marcus. There was no one else there. But what was he doing?

"Shh, easy Esca." Marcus murmured. "I'm just going to take this away before you lose more of it down your front."

Paper rustled under Esca's chin, and then Marcus gently removed Esca's fingers from around the burger sitting on his chest.

He hadn't even realised he'd still been holding onto it. Maybe he had fallen asleep.

Esca could hear Marcus wrapping the burger back up and then he felt fingers picking at his shirt, probably retrieving the stray pieces of lettuce and the remnants of the meal he'd been too tired to eat.

It was amusing. Esca wanted to smile. He nearly couldn't help himself. But if he smiled, Marcus would know he was awake and then he'd stop touching him. And despite having been hugged and kissed and held in his dreams - incredibly vivid dreams though they were - Esca was still feeling touch starved and raw.

Enough that the minuscule amount of affection Marcus was bestowing upon him was going straight to his chest.

The back of Marcus' hand grazed Esca's chest, drawing the blanket back up to Esca's neck. A knuckle brushed against his cheek. Fingers gently swept his hair away from his eyes and rested against his head for a moment. It was far more familiarity than Esca had allowed anyone else in years. 

He both wanted it and hated it.

He could open his eyes right now. He knew Marcus was looking down at him. If Esca opened his eyes, Marcus might smile down at him, might kiss him, might start them down the road to the kind of happiness that Esca was seeing in his dreams. But that Esca was a very different Esca. Way different. The pain wasn't there. And he was so open.

There were too many secrets Esca didn't want Marcus to know.

To have that kind of fantasy, Esca would have to let his secrets go. And between now and then would be so much hurt, and so many explanations, and so much anger that it made Esca physically sick to his stomach even just thinking about it.

He'd prefer just to run away.

To hide.

Esca turned his head away hiding his face against the blanket. He didn't want Marcus to see him. He didn't want Marcus to try and guess what he was thinking.

He didn't want to lose the tiny piece of Marcus that he'd miraculously gained.

The sun eventually disappeared behind the trees and with nothing to combat the chill air, Esca started getting cold. Cold enough that he could no longer stay comfy in his drowsy half sleep.

He grumbled and scrunched up his nose, trying to ignore it. But once he'd noticed it he started to wake up properly. His whole body felt a bit like he'd just hauled himself out of the ocean. Like he was weighed down. His first attempt at lifting his arms resulted in a lazy half movement where his arms didn't even manage to escape their blanket prison.

Marcus snapped his textbook shut.

Esca opened his eyes and glared blearily up at him.

Marcus smiled. "You can sleep here but you can't manage in a bed. Is it the room?"

Esca tried to snuggle back into the blanket again but now that he was properly awake he was feeling cold all over. "I think it's that fucking window." Esca knew it wasn't that.

"Into the sunroom?" Marcus nodded to himself. "I always did think that was really weird." He rolled to his feet, compensating for his bad leg, testing it a little before gathering up his bag and books and wandering back to the car. "Come on, we have to go. Get up or I'll have to carry you."

Esca frowned. "You can't carry me," he mumbled.

Marcus put his stuff away then wandered back over, dropping a sweater on Esca's head. He smiled down at him as he pulled his jacket on. "Esca, you're basically a stick insect, of course I can carry you."

"What about your leg." Esca tugged the sweater underneath the blanket and held onto it, trying to make it warm.

"I'm not an invalid you know." He grabbed Esca's hand and hauled him to his feet. Then bent down to retrieve the blankets. 

Esca pulled the sweater on, shivering and glaring at Marcus.

Marcus laughed at him. "Here," he held out the remains of Esca's burger. "You can heat it up and eat it when we get home."

Esca rolled his eyes, took it back, and started eating it cold. It tasted okay, even if the texture wasn't that great.

Marcus grimaced at him. "Gross." He bundled the blanket up and dumped it in the boot of the car.

Esca smiled at him through his mouthful of food, and shrugged. He stretched and stumbled towards the car, shoving the last of it in his mouth so he could dump the wrapper in the garbage. "Still good. Cold burger isn't the worst I've ever eaten."

Marcus looked at him solemnly. "Lucky for you my uncle never cooks anymore so hopefully it'll be the worst I ever feed you."

Esca shivered again. Just the idea of a future with Marcus in it was enough to tie his stomach in knots.


	7. Chapter 7

Esca stood quietly in the corner of the room dining room. He was doing his best to appear invisible as Marcus' uncle and a police officer documented and took pictures of his belongings. They were muttering to each other about something, but Esca was too busy watching them and worrying to concentrate on deciphering the conversation through the few words he could hear. It wasn't about him, anyway. As far as he could tell. Adult niceties.

It didn't matter.

Marcus ducked his head in for a second then disappeared again, coming back moments later with a piece of toast and a glass of milk.

Esca took it even though he didn't want to eat it. 

Marcus gave him strange forlorn looks when Esca refused food now. It was very strange. He didn't like the uncertainty in Marcus' expression whenever Esca failed to respond immediately. It was uncomfortable. Esca thought Marcus might be trying to help Esca to overcome the hesitation he felt every time something was offered to him. 

Esca took a bite of toast, his mouth too dry to chew it properly. The milk helped, but swallowing it still made him feel nauseated. He concentrated on his things on the table and the soft fake click of the police officer's mobile phone taking pictures. He tried to distract himself.

He could feel a slow trickle of blood creeping down his stomach from where he'd cut this morning. Calm, he had to calm down. 

They weren't taking anything away, just taking pictures. 

He frowned. 

Why was it taking so long?

He watched the officer turn off his phone and tuck it back in his pocket. He was done.

Esca wanted to take his things back, but that would be rude. 

He heard Marcus walking back to the kitchen and automatically took a bite of toast.

The officer turned and nodded at him, then shook hands with Aquila. 

Did that mean he was free? Esca waited anyway, concentrating on chewing as he waited for them reach the door. 

The officer stepped aside to let Aquila pass through first, stopping next to Esca. He pulled a small rectangular piece of cardboard from his front pocket. "Quit frowning, kid, I"ll keep you updated." He fiddled with it, letting the corners dig into the pads of his middle finger and thumb, his index finger turning it slowly.

Name, number, insignia in solid black ink. A second number written in blue pen.

Esca couldn't look him in the eyes, he settled for staring at his nose instead. This seemed to disappoint the guy.

"I saw your game against Marcus the other week," he said. Esca's throat constricted. Brilliant, another person who'd seen his past. "I'm looking forward to seeing you thrash your old team, the bastards, if you don't mind me saying." Esca startled. Was that a warning? Or was he angry about what they'd done? To him? How would he know? Or to Marcus, with his leg. Did he have to prove he wasn't a part of that? 

A warm hand came down on Esca's shoulder, startling him, palm against his collarbone, fingers firm against his shoulder blade. 

Esca looked up.

The guys eyes were brown. And he was looking at Esca as if he was trying to convey something, searching. "I don't take none with bullying." He said sincerely. "Give me a call if you need it." He clapped Esca on the shoulder and withdrew, leaving his card on the corner of the sidebar. 

As soon as he was out the door, Esca followed, stopping to watch him saunter down the hallway and greet Marcus with raised arms and mocking words. Marcus fake punched him in the stomach and was enveloped into a hug that looked like it hurt.

They were both laughing. It looked fun. It looked comforting.

A jolt of fear ran through Esca's chest as Marcus looked up at him over the officer's shoulder. Esca expected Marcus to frown at him for watching, but he smiled instead, as if to say ‘don't judge'. And then very judgingly looked at the toast Esca still hadn't eaten.

Esca scowled. What a bizarre fixation to have, making someone eat. Esca tore a chunk of toast off with his teeth, raised his glass of milk at Marcus and went back into the dining room to get his things. 

He could hear them saying their goodbyes, so he balanced the toast on top of his glass and quickly tucked his things into his pockets one handed. He wanted to hide his knife again. Aquila had seemed quite taken with it this morning and Marcus kept wanting to touch it. 

He hadn't, but he'd wanted to. He'd asked Esca if he could. 

Esca had said no.

It was automatic. No. Nobody was allowed to touch it, they'd take it away. Logically, he knew that Marcus wouldn't keep it, he would give it back. But he still didn't want him to have it. He wanted to tell Marcus why it was so important to him and why he was so possessive of it, but he didn't have the words to explain. He felt that it would upset Marcus to not know, though, and he'd been afraid Marcus would take it anyway, because Esca was here, in Marcus' house and Marcus could do whatever he wanted with Esca and his things whether Esca liked it or not. But he hadn't.

Marcus had just shrugged and smiled at him disarmingly, which was bemusing. If he'd asked again, Esca would've said yes. It was the same smile Marcus had given him in his dreams, the one the said, "Ok, I'll wait. Let me know when you're ready." And part of Esca was ready right now, but the majority of him wasn't. 

There was also the small part that was very much "Fuck you, I'll make you wait." Which could potentially have lead to Marcus using very persuasive tactics to convince him that Esca was ready. In dream world, anyway. Esca didn't think real life Marcus would do that. Yet.

At that point Esca had been very glad the police officer had turned up and Marcus had gone off to get ready for school instead. Even if it meant he later came back with breakfast that Esca didn't want to eat.

Esca scowled as he picked up his glass and toast again and turned to head back to his bedroom, he was so focussed on escaping quickly that he nearly ran into Marcus in the doorway.

"Whow." Marcus managed to side step quickly, which Esca was thankful for. Otherwise he would've tipped milk all down his front. 

Esca froze, waiting for the hit, waiting for the reprimand to come. The ‘watch it', ‘watch where you're going, you freak'. He was surprised when Marcus laughed and seemed to ignore it had even happened instead. It made it hard to catch up with the conversation Marcus had already started. Which somehow involved the mobile phone Marcus was now holding out.

"It's for you." Marcus smiled at him.

Esca stared at it. Was somebody calling? Or was Marcus was giving him a phone. "What for?" 

The mobile phone retreated. "So you can call me." Marcus rocked back on his heals and put his other hand in his pocket. "Or other people?" He glanced away spotting the police officer's card sitting on the sideboard. "Oh hey, I'll put his number in too. He's great." 

Esca looked on, bemused, as Marcus input the police officer's details. Great for what? Random texting? Why did Marcus know so many law enforcement people?

Esca wanted to ask, but he was afraid it might be a sensitive question. 

Marcus held the phone out again, which Esca couldn't take because he was holding toast in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. Marcus hadn't noticed. He was looking Esca directly in the eyes as if Esca's own stubbornness was the only thing preventing him from taking it.

"The charger for it is in the kitchen. You don't have to use it." He shrugged. "But you know, just in case."

Esca looked at the phone again. Marcus was going to talk to him all the time. He would never be rid of him. Which probably wasn't a bad thing.

He stuck the remainder of his toast between his teeth and took the phone. 

 

***

 

"Right boys, stop dancing about and get over here." The soccer coach paced back and forth in front of the team as they assembled on the centre line. He frowned down at them. "We've got a game on Friday. I want to see who is going to get out there and win. Partner up!"

Marcus immediately turned to Esca but the coach clapped a hand down over his shoulder and pushed him away. "Go and help Eliot fix his strike. Esca you're with McGibbons."

McGibbons gave Esca and tight smile, then turned and jogged over to the sack of soccer balls, tipping them out onto the ground so he could kick them over to the rest of the team.

Esca watched Marcus stop a couple of them, dribbling them towards the goal at one end of the field. He turned back and shrugged at Esca, smiling.

It didn't make Esca feel any better.

The team were still freezing him out, practice after practice after practice. They'd seemingly warm to him for a bit, getting psyched up towards the end of the trial game during practice, but the next morning they'd be back to ignoring him. Engaging Marcus and pretending Esca wasn't even there.

Marcus was noticing, he was obviously confused by it, but he didn't seem to want to talk about it which Esca was thankful for. 

Esca knew there were conversations happening that he wasn't privy to, but he was just too tired to care.

It was normal, Esca was used to it. People just didn't like him. He weirded them out, or they didn't like that he was good at things. They felt threatened by him and reacted badly convincing everyone else that he was arrogant and needed to be taken down a peg or two.

They hadn't done anything to him yet, other than look at him funny. And Esca was pretty sure they wouldn't do anything to him while Marcus was right there watching. He wasn't so sure what would happen if he wasn't there though. 

Actually, he was pretty sure it would turn into exactly what it had been at his old school, with his team grinding him down, the teachers looking at him sadly and him running the hell away.

It made him want to run again right now. To find somewhere to hole up and hide. It made him think it wasn't worth it to stay. The only reason he was here was because of Marcus, and the pain and trauma and antagonism just wasn't worth one person being nice. Nobody could make up for the rest of the world being shit. And as afraid as Esca was of this being it, of Marcus being the only person ever to tolerate him, to fight for him, to help him, that still wasn't worth it. Logic said no. Esca was stupid for staying. 

By the end of the school day he'd usually convinced himself that as soon as he got back to Marcus' place, he was going to collect his things and go. It was the only thing that got him through the day. 

At the end he could leave.

But then Marcus would drive them home, and he'd joke and prod and practically drag Esca into a conversation so that by the time he'd made it through the door he actually had words. They'd sit down at the dining table, or in the lounge room, or on the deck and do their homework. Marcus' soft rumbling voice talking him through math equations, or discussing their English homework, or groaning about the relevance of chemistry to a career in sports.

It made Esca feel warm and open and not afraid. It made him forget his past and his dread for the future. It stopped him from thinking about things over and over, things he couldn't change and would never be able to fix. And it made him focus on what was happening to him right then and there.

It made him feel like he did in the dreams he kept having.

If it could all be like that, if it was like that all the time, would that make him happy?

What would that even look like? For one thing, Marcus didn't own a farm, and it seemed pretty shitty to try and convince him that they'd be better off in solitude somewhere when Marcus had so many friends here. Just because Esca would do fine off on his own, didn't mean Marcus would. 

Esca was startled out of his reverie by a shout from McGibbons. Esca turned just in time to avoid a soccer ball to the head. 

"Stop staring at your boyfriend and start." McGibbons said testily. 

Esca rolled his eyes and jogged over to fetch the ball. He dribbled it back, faced off against him, kicked the ball right through McGibbons' legs and dodged around him, catching up with it again so he could turn to face off against him again.

McGibbons looked annoyed, making Esca hesitate for a moment. People looking that cranky usually preceded some form of injury. It was part of the reason Esca had played games for his old team but had avoided practice. But then McGibbons expression cleared and he grunted, waving a hand at the ball. "Show me how you do that." 

Esca nodded, dribbling the ball back towards him and running through the move again slowly. He ran the move until McGibbons could block him, then let him succeed in replicating it until the guy started getting cocky. Then he switched it up and added a feint, turning quickly to go again so McGibbons had to concentrate. They settled into a rhythm of running the drill one way, then the other, switching and going again.

By the time the coach broke them up to run through the cones instead, McGibbons was looking pretty pleased with himself and he slapped Esca on the shoulder and gave him a shake before jogging across the field.

Esca froze. He could feel the hand print across his collarbone. Somebody else thumped him on the back as they ran past.

"You'll have to show me that drill, I don't think I've ever seen McGibbons block properly before."

Esca heard the "Yeah, go on," from McGibbons. But then someone ruffled his hair, fingers raking across his head and battering his ear and his hearing diminished to the footsteps beside him and approaching him from behind. Cleats crunching through grass.

Esca saw the hand coming up around him in his peripheral vision and he flinched, ducking away from the arm that was about to fall around his shoulders. He waited for them to come after him, to drag him back. But when he looked up there was no one else there. He turned and saw Placidus staring down at him, arm still raised.

A few of the other guys were looking at him strangely.

Coach was yelling at them to get moving.

Esca could barely breathe. 

He snapped out of it when he saw Marcus coming towards them. Ignoring Placidus, he retrieved the soccer ball and lined up with the rest of the guys in front of the coach.

Their pickup game was rough. It didn't start that way, but after a friendly and amusing face off with McGibbons where the guy tried to put what he'd learnt into practice and discovered, along with the rest of the team, how low his skill level was compared to Esca's, Placidus had taken his team aside and said something that meant every single one of the players had it out for Esca. Checking him, blocking him, doubling up on him. They weren't hitting him or tackling him, but every time they came at him he couldn't help reacting as if they were about to. He'd pass the ball off and prepare for someone to slam into him which meant he didn't finish any of the plays they were supposed to be running and the coach was having a yelling fit over it on the side line.

He got reamed by the coach, his side were annoyed with him because the coach kept stopping to start the play again when Esca stuffed it up, and the other side kept smiling smugly every time Esca ditched the ball.

So he kept the ball.

The first time he gave in they ran the play and they scored. He could hear the coach's ‘fucking finally' from all the way up the other end of the field. The second time he tried it though someone hit him so hard it winded him. He was so dazed he just picked up and kept going. They scored again.

Esca stopped thinking about it, put his head down and played. He could hear the yelling and cheering, the play calls from the coach. He got kicked in the shins, his hip, someone wrenched his arm, at one point someone slammed him to the ground, but he just rolled back to his feet and kept going.

It was exhilarating and painful and exhausting and he loved it.

Then he tried to head the ball as Placidus leapt up to kick it and ended up with a soccer cleat slamming into the side of his head.

He lay the ground, dazed. He could hear himself talking, saying he was fine. He saw, very briefly, the team standing over him, Marcus looming in front of him. A cold trickle ran over his cheekbone and pooled uncomfortably in his ear. 

He heard the word ‘nurse' and panicked. He couldn't go to the nurse. That was a terrible idea. They'd check him over. They'd see everything.

The adrenaline was enough to get him rolling over, and then he had a battle with gravity and lurched to his feet. . 

"I'm fine." Esca said. He could hear the slur in his voice which was not good.

"You'll go to the nurse." The coach bent down and grabbed his chin so he could look him in the eyes. 

Esca stared back at him, trying to slow his breathing, willing the world to stop tilting. "I'm fine."

"Nurse." The coach stepped away. "And I want to see that sign off sheet before you get back on the field." He clapped his hands and signalled for people to get back into position.

Esca looked away dumbly. Well there went that plan. He wasn't going to go see some school nurse, they'd take one look at his body and send him off to a psychiatric ward. Esca shivered, turning to stumble off the field.

Marcus took his elbow gently. "Hey, we can-"

The coach's whistle cut him off. "Marcus, back here. You can go cuddle your boyfriend after you get this play right. Placidus, make sure he gets to the nurse."

Esca shook Marcus' hand off and headed for the lockers, ignoring the argument going on behind him. He made it all the way there and even managed to seat himself on one of the benches before he passed out.

 

***

 

Fingers brushed the side of Esca's head, gently stroking through his hair. The dry rustle of fingernails against his scalp sounded loud, the slow and steady breathing from above him swept over his clammy skin making him cold despite the heat radiating from the pallet beneath him. His shift was damp from sweat, chilly where the cloth met open air. He could feel a weight against his chest, a brand of suffocating heat. He struggled to open his eyes. The world was blurry.

"Hey," Marcus murmured, he was propped up on his elbow, weary and unkempt with dark marks beneath his eyes and a beard that had just managed to pass the stubble stage. "Do you feel strong enough to sit up for a bit?"

Esca rolled his head to the side to look at him. He didn't know. He nodded anyway.

The weight against Esca's chest lifted and the hand against his head curled beneath the back of his neck, gently supporting his head as he was lifted into a sitting position. The world around him swam. He closed his eyes and tried to fight off the dizziness.

Marcus pulled the quilt out of the way and dragged Esca across the bed until he was sitting on the edge, then he stood and guided Esca to the chair sitting beside it.

Then he disappeared.

Esca fought to stay sitting upright, hands clenched over his knees, elbows locked, should's up around his ears. He could hear Marcus limping around the room, the pallet being hauled off the bed, the thump as it hit the floor, his grunt as he turned it over. The slide of the fabric across wooden slats as he righted it again.

Esca let his arms relax and leant forward on his elbows, he relaxed his shoulders and let his head hang. A couple of moments later, Marcus' warm hand gripped his arm and pulled him upright again. 

"C'mon," Marcus tugged at Esca's shift. "Let's get this off you."

Esca raised his arms, shivering as the fabric was peeled from his skin, the cool air flowing over his chest. Marcus gently pulled the shift free, then his hands came back, one cradling Esca's head, the other with a warm, damp, cloth. He began wiping Esca down, lightly sweeping over Esca's neck and shoulders, his back, his belly, his thighs, his calves. He dipped the cloth into the bowl of warm water beside them in between strokes. Travelling down Esca's arms, in between his fingers, and gently, so gently, across his face. Esca sighed deeply and leant into Marcus' chest.

A sharp, shooting pain in his side brought him forcefully back to wakefulness.

"Hold still." Marcus gripped his shoulder as Esca tried to flinch away.

Esca clamped a hand over Marcus' fingers. "What's going on?" He looked down at his bare chest, blinking furiously and trying to focus his vision. Water leaked from his eyes, trickling down the side of his nose.

Marcus used the cloth to wipe his face again. "You got yourself stabbed and the wound became inflamed." He pulled Esca upright and began inspecting Esca's side again. Esca grunted, twitching every time Marcus poked him.

"Will I live?" He meant it as a joke, but Marcus clearly wasn't in the mood. He bundled Esca up and transferred him back to the bed none too gently.

Esca grimaced. At least if Marcus was cranky with him it really did mean he was going to be ok. Esca obediently raised his arms as Marcus came back with a clean shift, letting himself be dressed and pushed back down into the mattress with the quilt tucked up under his chin.

"Has Bryn been over? Did he pen up the sheep?" Esca tried to free one of his arms from beneath the covers but it was like it was weighed down with rocks. He made a frustrated noise as Marcus sat down on the bed beside him, thwarting all possibility of shifting the covers enough to escape. Esca stared at the covers for a moment trying to figure out what to do about that, but Marcus' hand came to rest against his chest, a gentle pressure over his collarbone. Esca looked up into Marcus' sad eyes.

"Bryn is dead, Esca." He said, gently. "They ran him through. They'd killed three families before you chased them off." Marcus closed his eyes and leant down to rest his forehead against Esca's. He stayed there for a moment before kissing him and sitting up again, turning away to compose himself, his hand sliding away to rest in his lap. "Luckily the horses know their way home and like you well enough not to throw you. If Abraxus hadn't brought you back, you'd be dead as well."

Esca tried to reach out to him, but he was still trapped. Everything was too heavy. "Marcus," he tried to jostle him, wanting him to turn back and look at him, but he was too weak to even manage that. "Marcus, I'm fine, I'm alive."

Marcus continued to stare at the rafters. He looked exhausted, dazed and lost. 

"Marcus? I'm fine, I came back."

Marcus ducked his head, running a hand over his face. "But you nearly didn't. I've spent the last week watching you slip away. I don't know whether you're going to remember this, or whether the next time you wake up you'll be crazy again."

"I was crazy?"

"You carved things into the table and then attacked me when I tried to take the knife from you."

"Well, that's clearly your fault, leaving knives about."

"I had to fetch sheep in from the upper field and came back to find you uprooting your trees. You were saving them from the cold."

"Where did I get the strength from, I certainly don't have the energy now."

"I couldn't leave you because every time I did I came back to find you bleeding again."

Esca wriggled against the quilt that was drawn tight across his chest. "Is that why you've pinned my arms under the covers."

Marcus nodded, the brief flicker of amusement slipping from his features again.

Esca watched him, waiting. He could see how drained he was. He probably hadn't slept for days. "Marcus, I'll always come back. I'll never willingly leave you."

Marcus sighed heavily. "I know that Esca. I love you and I know. But you're so bull headed and you keep getting yourself into situations where people die. I wasn't expecting you to be taken from me."

Esca frowned, puzzled. "We fought side by side above the wall. We had people hunting us."

"But I hadn't spent every minute of every day watching you and imagining growing old with you." He turned to look at Esca, so much pain written across his face that it made Esca's heart hitch. "I don't want to lose you, I can't."

"I'm here. I'm not gone. Stop acting like I have." Esca wriggled again. The world was tilting sideways. "You need sleep." There was no way Marcus would be this sentimental about anything, well, not in words. "Either grab a blanket and lie down, or get in here with me."

Marcus nodded vaguely, curling up on top of the covers. He lay his head on Esca's shoulder, his face hidden from view.

Esca wanted to get the blanket. Marcus was going to get cold.

He couldn't move though, and he couldn't really think. Maybe it would make more sense when the pain subsided and his head cleared. He leant his cheek against Marcus' hair and closed his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

Esca woke to what sounded like hooves against rock; lot's of sheep clattering across a stony surface.  Were they in town?  Had Marcus brought him to the surgeon?  It didn't smell like it.  He struggled to open his eyes, blinking away the blurriness.  It took a moment for his eyes to focus.    
  
He was in a room with a low roof, a grey stone floor, and wooden fixings.  Clothes were hanging all along the walls in little cubbies and sunlight was streaming through a doorway across the room, lighting everything up.  It was probably late afternoon with the sun that low in the sky.  Or early morning.  It looked too orange to be morning though.  
  
The sound of hooves was coming from outside, drawing closer.  Esca shifted, realising he was sitting up, not lying down.  He was slumped on a bench, no longer trapped beneath the covers of his bed.  And wearing some very strange clothing.  What happened to his tunic?  And his boots?  
  
He started to lean over, but his head immediately started pounding, he clutched his stomach automatically, expecting overwhelming pain.  But apart from the initial twinge and biting jolt it wasn't nearly as painful as he thought it was going to be.  Carefully, he lifted his shirt to inspect his belly.  
  
It took a moment for his brain to process.  There were scars, lot's of them, tiny spiderweb lines criss-crossing the skin just to the right of his belly button.  Some were old, white lines against his pale skin, the rest were in various stages of healing, pink and fading, scabbing over.  
  
Nothing that would warrant Marcus crying over him as if he were on his deathbed.  
  
Esca dropped his shirt and looked towards the door again, waiting for the sheep and whoever was approaching.  
  
Two figures were silhouetted against the sun, one limping in a very familiar way with his arm slung across the shoulders of another.  Esca stood and moved forward to take Marcus' other arm, guiding him to the bench and helping him to sit.  
  
The other guy made some remark and rolled his eyes.  He looked familiar, but he was dressed in the same odd clothes both Esca and Marcus were wearing and Esca couldn't place where he'd seen him before.      
  
The guy stomped over towards the row of cubbies, muttering words Esca couldn't understand.  
  
Esca turned back to Marcus, kneeling down in front of him and honing straight in on his injured leg.  He wrapped his hands around Marcus' thigh and pushed his short pants up and away from the scar tissue.  He paused for a moment, baffled by how neat it was.  This wasn't Marcus' leg.  
  
Esca looked up.    
  
A very young, very startled Marcus was looking back at him  
  
Esca looked down at Marcus' leg again, trying to fathom what was going on.    
  
"Esca?"  
  
Esca could feel it in his chest the way he always could.  His own name in Marcus' voice.  He didn't know what was happening, but Marcus' hand was gripping the edge of the bench, he was breathing quickly, and the muscles in his thigh were tense and twitching.  He was clearly in pain.  
  
Esca shook his head slightly, trying to chase away the oddness.  He dug his thumbs into the sides of Marcus leg and began kneading the muscle.  Marcus hissed, reaching out to grip Esca's shoulder. He bit his lip and pressed his face against his own arm, breathing deeply and making the stuttering little moans he made when he was trying to hide his pain.  
  
Esca concentrated on applying pressure and trying to find the points that would draw out the tension, feeling along the rigid muscle and massaging it out.  He continued until Marcus was panting and trying to disguise an entirely different type of sound.  Esca hesitated as he let his hands rest.  
  
This was Marcus, but it wasn't, but it was.  Esca glanced up furtively trying to determine the status quo.  Marcus was still gripping Esca's shoulder, but instead of hiding his face against his own arm, he was watching Esca out of the corner of his eye. His expression was one of wonder.  Surprise, maybe.  Affection?  With a level of uncertainty.  He was breathing heavily, not deep breaths to maintain control, but in relief. Esca could feel him relax and loosen up.   
  
Esca waited, leaning in closer.  He could feel Marcus' hand releasing it's hold, sliding up to grip the back of his neck.  
  
"Thanks, Esca."   
  
Esca waited.  He watched Marcus' looking down at him, the way his tongue flicked out to lick his lips, the way he swallowed, the way he smiled uncertainly and the way his brow wrinkled in concern.  Esca frowned, realising that Marcus wasn't going to lean forward and kiss him.  There was something wrong with all this.    
  
Esca felt his eyes burning.  He looked away. Marcus reached out as Esca pulled back. He ran his fingers over the tender side of Esca's head.  There was blood.  He wiped it on his shirt and reached out again, tilting Esca's head to the side.  
  
It was the ‘What the fuck?' from behind that snapped Esca out of it.  Marcus snatched his hands away.  
  
Esca tried to figure out how he'd come to be kneeling pretty much between Marcus' thighs in the school locker room.  
  
His face burned.  
  
"Quit fawning over each other, nobody needs to see that."  Placidus was right there watching them. "Am I taking you to the nurse or what?  Hurry it up, I've got better things to do with my evening."  
  
Marcus snorted.  "You tackled me."  
  
Placidus threw his shirt at him.   
  
Esca flinched automatically, pulling further away from Marcus to avoid the line of fire.   
  
"You literally gave me no choice, charging me like that.  You'd better not have wrecked your leg."  
  
"You'd better not have given Esca a concussion."  
  
"He's totally fine!  You've seen him after games.  Your boyfriend gets trashed at every single one.  He's fucking crazy.  Did you see the way he took out Samuel, I'm surprised Sam didn't turn around and floor him." He chucked his shoes into the locker and started wandering towards the showers, stripping off as he went.  "Clean him up so the nurse doesn't bench him." He disappeared behind the partition at the end of the room.  
  
The sound of the shower spray hitting the tiled floor made Esca flinch again.  The whole team would be back in here soon, he had to get out. There would be too many people, it would be hard to escape.  
  
"Hey, Esca."  Marcus reached out again.  
  
Esca could feel the cooling blood trickling down the side of his neck.  
  
"C'mere for a sec.  You don't have to shower."  
  
Was that why his team started beating him up?  Did he injure them during practice too?  He never noticed.  He was too focussed on the game.  He couldn't remember now, when it started.    
  
"Just change out of your shoes and put your jacket on and we'll head over."  
  
But he knew it was a bad idea to be in the locker room right now, and if Samuel was angry he could probably corner Esca without anyone else noticing and it's not like anyone would be able to tell which bruises were from what occasion, he was covered in bruises, and cuts, and scars.  
  
"Esca," Marcus placed a hand on Esca's shoulder again and tried to bend down low enough to get into his field of vision.  "Can you understand what I'm saying?"  
  
Esca grunted.  He wanted to answer him but he didn't know what language was going to come out and he wasn't sure if speaking in a foreign language which he couldn't explain was more likely to make Marcus want to take him to the nurse, or less likely. Would Marcus make him go? Maybe if he asked not to Marcus wouldn't try and make him.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye Esca could see Marcus biting his lip and looking worried. He pushed himself to his feet and brushed past Esca to the lockers, pulling out both his gear and Esca's.     
  
Esca struggled to his feet, his knees cold from the smooth stone floor.  Marcus came back, dropping back down onto the bench awkwardly as he tried to accommodate for his leg. He pulled Esca down with him and dropped the bags at his feet, leaning over to start unlacing his boots.  When Esca didn't follow suit immediately he reached over and started pulling at the laces of Esca's boots as well.  Esca let him struggle with the knots for a moment before bending over and doing it himself.  
  
"Why on earth did you knot them this many times?"  Marcus wriggled the lace, then started unpicking it with his fingernails.  He jostled Esca with his shoulder as it finally came loose, reaching out to pull Esca's bag closer and grab his clothes.    
  
Esca smiled, putting on his jacket when Marcus gave it to him. It was like when his past self was too distracted or tired or belligerent to sort himself out and Marcus would just do things for him.    
  
He could remember Marcus wrapping cloaks around him in midwinter while he grumbled about the weather; his nose frozen, sleet trickling down the back of his neck, and his feet numb.  He could remember Marcus' warm hands tying the laces of his sandles, and gently running up the back of his legs as Esca lay flat on his back trying to find the energy to get up and go outside.  He could remember Marcus pulling him down from his horse, his thighs aching from having ridden too fast and too far, and being enveloped in Marcus' arms, his nose pressed against the rise of his collarbone.    
  
The rush of warmth welling up in Esca's chest was overwhelming.  He didn't understand why it was so strong, the emotions weren't even his.  At least, he didn't think they were.  
  
He bit his lip and tried to hold it all in, keeping his head down as he pulled his shin pads out of his socks and stood up to pull his tracksuit pants up over his shorts. Darkness engulfed his peripheral vision, his hearing dulled. Esca stilled.  He'd stood up too fast. He could feel Marcus' hand on his elbow, holding him steady.   
  
The world came back in bright flecks of static and bursts of white.  
  
"You're ok, sit back down."    
  
Esca turned away, fumbling with the cord of his track suit pants, trying to hold his shirt out of the way but keep his stomach hidden as he worked the cord into a knot.    
  
Behind him he could hear Marcus shoving their gear into their bags and jerking the zippers closed.   
  
"Esca?"    
  
Esca ignored him, his head was beginning to throb, the pain like a giant weighted ball on the side of his head.  Was this real or the remembered past?    
  
Marcus was in his space again, pushing Esca's hands away from his head and guiding him back to the bench.  
  
How had past Esca and Marcus gotten together?  When was it?  What happened?  Why couldn't he remember those things?  Why were the memories all of Marcus and only snapshots of when they were together?  And comfort, comfort, comfort.  What other life had Esca lived?  They were all grown up, so what was the rest of Esca's life like?  What happened to everything else?  Was it too lonely?  Was it all horrible?  Had the rest of it been blocked out?    
  
Esca sat down on the bench again when Marcus tugged at his elbow.    
  
Marcus gave him a shoe.  
  
Were the memories in reverse or sequential? They hadn't aged in the dreams, so Esca couldn't tell. Was he going to have to relive 60 years worth of memories?  Probably not, it was a long time in the past, they wouldn't live that long in that era.  Maybe 20.  Would it take 20 years for him to relive them?  He was already shattered from lack of sleep, he couldn't handle much more of it.  
  
The warm comforting feeling dissipated.  He closed his eyes.  They ached.  
  
Marcus took the shoe back. "C'mon, Esca." He unlaced it and dropped it on the floor.  "How's your head?"    
  
Esca glanced at him out the corner of his eye. He was looking worried and unsure.  Esca took a deep breath and then draped himself forward over his knees. He could feel Marcus' hand resting gently on his spine, preventing him from toppling forward.    
  
It took him three tries to tie the laces of one shoe, the loop kept getting lost and his fingers couldn't tuck it through right.  He felt like he might've gotten lost in tying the second one, but Marcus hauled him up and lifted his foot up onto the bench so he could quickly and efficiently tie it for him.  
  
Esca stared up at him.  Did Marcus have these memories too?  Was this why he was so tactile and so determined to take care of Esca?  Marcus held Esca's gaze so long he wondered if they were moving in slow motion.   
  
Marcus smiled awkwardly as he let go of Esca's foot, reaching out to catch Esca's fingers instead. "Just give me one word, buddy."  
  
Esca frowned.  Was that why he was so concerned?   Had he noticed how lost Esca was? Did he think Esca was not all there?   
  
"I don't want to go to the nurse."  Esca said.  
  
Marcus's breath hitched, his fingers clenching around Esca's.  
  
Esca sighed in relief, English.   
  
Marcus tugged him closer, reaching up with his other hand to gently brush the side of Esca's head again.  "I know." He let his palm rest against Esca's cheek.  "I know, but she's just going to look at your head, not anything else."  
  
Esca stared at Marcus's nose, not quite wanting to look him in the eyes it was so intense. He could feel his heart beating faster, a warm flush rising in his chest. He wanted to believe Marcus, but he knew it wasn't true.  Even if the nurse was only patching up Esca's head and checking him for concussion, she would be looking at the rest of him and making an assessment which would go in a report which would lead to questions and pressure for an explanation which Esca didn't want to give.  
  
He didn't want to explain that to Marcus either.   
  
The shower cut off and Marcus pulled back. Esca was surprised for a moment, but then he remembered that Placidus had already seen Esca kneeling between Marcus thighs this afternoon and Marcus probably wanted to avoid crude remarks just as much as Esca.  It was both a relief and a disappointed.   
  
Placidus wandered back out into the room, glancing at them as he used a corner of his towel to dry his ears. He was looking unimpressed and annoyed. "Aren't you going to shower?"  
  
Marcus shook his head.  
  
Esca looked at the floor.  
  
Placidus snorted in disbelief.  "You're going to take him to the nurse with blood all over him?  Smooth move there. How do you think that's going to go down."  
  
"Just shut it Placidus."  
  
Placidus looked from Marcus to Esca and back to Marcus.  "Is he afraid.  Does he think he's going to get locked in again?  That's stupid, nobody is as vicious as his lot and he has us here to stop anyone coming in."  
  
"I'd say you're part of the problem." Marcus muttered.  
  
Placidus heard it anyway.  "Me?" He pulled a shirt out of his cubby and shoved his arms through the sleeves, pulling it down viciously.   
  
Esca nearly laughed at his incredulity. Of course you.   
  
Placidus grabbed a cloth from his bag and disappeared back into the shower block again, running the taps for a moment before marching back in to stand in front of them.  
  
Marcus looked up at him wearily.   
  
Placidus clenched his jaw and looked directly at Esca. "I'm sorry I kicked you in the head, ok, it was an accident." The words were an apology but the meaning was clear.  It was Esca's own damn fault that he'd stuck his head in the way.  When Esca didn't react, Placidus demeanor changed.  He wasn't getting what he wanted so he was changing tactics.  Esca's step parents had done this all the time.  Anger, flipped to concern, flipped to fake nice, flipped to derision.  Esca just wished he had some way of predicting what Placidus's tactics were.  He wished he could out think him. He wished he could figure out a way to out think all of them.  
  
Placidus's words became cloying and persuasive. "You want to play soccer, right? The coach will never let you on the field again if you don't go and get cleared and with Marcus being so incredibly sub par we're not even going to make quarter finals without you. We need you on that field. So suck it up and get cleaned up so the nurse doesn't die of shock when she sees you and oust you from school altogether."  
  
When Esca didn't leap into action Placidus came at him with the damp cloth he was holding, clearly intending to clean Esca up himself.  
  
"Hey!" Marcus reached over Esca, grabbing Placidus arm and pushing him back.  
  
Esca slid across the bench away from them as Marcus stood.  
  
"What are you doing?! Are you crazy?" Marcus was furious.  
  
"I thought he was trying to hide the rest of his injuries.  Who knows why," Placidus looked over at Esca, his eyes open too wide, too innocent, so false.  How could anyone be like this? "It would be better for everyone if he just told people what was going on, then they could do something about it."  
  
What, like make Esca disappear?  Is that all he wanted?  Esca far away from Marcus?  
  
Esca watched Marcus and Placidus stare each other down.  
  
"You can't make people's decisions for them, Placidus.  Some people need more time than others."  
  
"And sometimes waiting just gets people hurt." Placidus chucked the wet cloth at Marcus's chest and turned to grab his things.  "Hobble to the nurse on your own.  Or don't."  
  
  
***  
  
  
There was something going on that Esca wasn't privy to. Something that somehow involved Esca.  And Marcus. Maybe? Who else was going to get hurt?  It certainly wasn't Esca that Placidus was worried about. Esca had pinned Placidus as someone who didn't actually worry about anyone but himself even though the guy had run a pretty hard line against Esca hurting Marcus. Anything he got up to was probably self motivated in some way.    
  
It hadn't sounded like they were arguing about Esca at all.  It sounded like they were talking about something completely different.  
  
As soon as Placidus stormed out of the locker room Esca expected Marcus to take Placidus's advice and try to convince Esca to tell someone about what his foster parents had done. Or maybe what Esca's old team had done.  One of those.  Esca injuring himself wasn't exactly about to get anyone else hurt and Esca was pretty sure Marcus didn't know about that part.  
  
Marcus had refrained though, obviously believing his own words. He watched Placidus leave before taking a deep breath and turning back to Esca, approaching him carefully.  
  
"Do you want to wash up a bit now that he's not here?"   
  
Esca was reluctant to, but Placidus did have a point about the blood. If Marcus was going to make him go to the nurse there was no point in giving them any reason to want to look further than his head. He pushed himself up off the bench and followed Marcus around to the taps.  
  
The memory of Marcus washing him in the past came to mind as Marcus ran the cloth under the water again.  Esca half expected him to go ahead and do that here and now as well. Wipe the dirt from Esca's arms and hands, hold his chin and clean his face.  But Esca was far too agitated to deal with something so intimate and Marcus somehow sensed that.  He squeezed the cloth out and handed it to Esca, then leant up against the wall next to the sink and waited, holding a one sided conversation that required no response from Esca, but left him openings just in case.   
  
It calmed Esca down.  Marcus was getting good at that - maybe it was strategic. Esca was pretty sure it wasn't, Marcus didn't really seem like the type.  He was far too straight forward and honest, even his uncle didn't seem to think he could lie. But he had Placidus for a friend.  With that kind of influence who knew what skills Marcus had picked up.  
  
Marcus who knew just when to reach out and when to hold back. Like when Esca finished washing, Marcus had smiled at him and just seemed to know that Esca would let him touch.  He gently tugged the hair at Esca's temple.  "You're still bleeding." He winced in sympathy and then rinsed his fingers before leading him back out to the lockers and collecting their gear.  
  
Was Marcus just trying to distract him from asking questions? Was there some other motivation for keeping him around?  Esca found that difficult to think about.  He desperately didn't want that to be the case and he found it a difficult concept to understand given the weight of his past self heavy on his mind. Marcus's actions had seemed selfless even though Esca had assumed they weren't. Was anyone that selfless?  
  
  
***  
  
  
The nurse was just as bad as Esca thought it was going to be.  She took one look at Esca and asked Marcus to leave the room. Esca couldn't think of anything he could say to make him stay, or make her let him stay.   
  
Marcus gave his shoulder a quick squeeze as he walked out, letting the door to the tiny room close behind him. Esca glared at his retreating back and tried not to feel betrayed and abandoned.   
  
The doctor slid on a set of latex gloves and rolled her chair over so she was sitting directly in front of him.  She looked him in the eyes when she spoke. "I'm going to check your head, tell me if it's tender."  
  
Esca ducked his head, focussing on the badge pinned to her chest.  Nurse Galba.  He tried not to react as her cool fingers pressed against one side of his face to hold him still while the other hand slid through his hair.  The gloves caught in the strands that had been glued together by drying blood.  He winced as she accidentally tugged them.  
  
"Let me just clean that up." She was quick and efficient as she wiped away the rest of the blood and patched him up.  She checked his eyes, and his ears. Touching, far too much touching.  Esca had to remind himself to breathe every time her hands came back.  Questions, so many questions.  "Does it hurt here? Here? What about here? Can you look up.  Can you look this way.  Turn your head. Let me have a look at you?"  She picked up one of his arms, turning it over to look at the ring of bruises around his elbow, green and yellow and nearly gone.  "Where did this come from?"  
  
Esca wasn't even sure.  It could've been from anything. "Soccer."  Sport was the answer to everything, and mostly true.  It was more likely it was from when his foster dad had grabbed him a couple of weeks ago. Esca could tell she didn't believe him. "Have I got a concussion?"  
  
Galba rolled her chair backwards, peeling the gloves off.   
  
 "It's just a scratch and a bit of a bruise, no concussion." She dropped the gloves in the bin and pulled out a file.  Esca was surprised to see it already had his name on it and contained a rather generous stack of pages. What file was this?  Where had it come from?  His old school?  The hospital?  The police?  Handwritten reports flipped past as she opened it, and Esca caught a glance of an x-ray of his wrist from when they'd broken it.  
  
Esca stood up abruptly. He could feel the panic roiling around his stomach.  It was one of those situations where he knew he was behaving oddly but he couldn't stop himself from doing so. Stupid, he was being so stupid.  But he didn't have to be here, he didn't have to sit through this. Whatever the nurse wanted he didn't have to deal with it.  She'd cleared him.  
  
He turned to leave, trying to ignore the way the nurse was looking at him.  Calmly, understandingly.  "I'll schedule a check up for you. Come tell me if you're feeling off tomorrow."  
  
She said something else, but Esca was already out the door.


End file.
